In The Deep Forest Green
by cardigan-ReD
Summary: Rape, shounen-ai. Trowa is kidnapped while on a mission, and when Quatre and Duo go to rescue him they learn that their friend has suffered more than just imprisonment. Will they be able to escape, and if so, will life ever be the same?
1. In Restless Dreams

The warmth of the room was derived from the high rising fluorescent lights that dominated the ceiling. They hummed endlessly, into the supposed days and nights. Quarte's eyes ached at the sight of them. Always there, always burning into him. There was no escape in the tiny room. Four walls, a bare bunk bed in the corner and one dead bolted door. Quatre sat crouched on the first bed, using the top one a shield from the blinding lights.  
  
When they, they being him and Duo, were first brought to the cell the two had been blindfolded, with their arms were tightly clasped behind them by two unseen men. There was no saying where they were or how many people were guarding them, so an escape seemed close to impossible. An escape on top of rescuing Trowa was impossible.  
  
Quatre sighed loudly to himself, attracting the attention of his cell mate.  
  
"I hear ya buddy," Duo chuckled. Despite his worn and haggard appearance, the boy managed a smile for his blonde companion. Quatre couldn't help but to smile back, it was a weak smile but a smile none the less. "Wonder what's going on out there," Duo thought out loud.  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Quatre.  
  
"I mean, we both know we're not going to be getting out of this cell. Let's face it, we've done a run down of all our possible escapes at least two- dozen times, and we've still yet to fine a way out. Our only hope is going to come from out there," Duo pointed to the tall cell door.  
  
"Heero and Wufei," Quatre mumbled to himself. The two had decided not to join in on the jail break of Trowa. Both being the analytical and cynical ones of the group, they weren't willing to go on their emotions and jump into the lap of danger to save their friend. Quatre sat back on the bed, a vivid image of the argument he had with the two in his head.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ "Are you insane?" Heero boomed, standing up from his lap top.  
  
"We can't wait," Quatre hollered back, "he might be in danger. He might need our help."  
  
"Well, obviously he'll need out help, he's been captured. You have any idea what OZ will do to an spy?" The room was silent for a moment, Quatre felt his heart sink into his chest. "Torture. They'll torture him till they can get information."  
  
"Lucky us Trowa got captured, he's never uttered more than five word with us, imagine him spilling the beans with a bunch of OZ soldiers," Duo jeered, getting no laughs from his comrades.  
  
"I have to agree with Yuy on this," Wufei finally spoke up, "this is a dangerous mission you're taking on. We don't know how many soldiers we'll be up against, what kind of artillery they have; we don't even know where they're keeping Trowa. This will require time to look over the facts and the-"  
  
"But time is something we don't have," Quatre blurted out, "time isn't working with us."  
  
"I know it's important we get Trowa back, but it will do us no good if we go in there disorganized and trigger happy, we'll just get caught, or worse." Heero turned and looked Quatre dead in the eye. "I've fought alongside Trowa, he's a good soldier, a disciplined soldier. He will hold out until we get there, I can assure you that. But first, we need to make a plan, do you understand me?"  
  
Quatre just turned and walked away. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
"They were right," Quatre spoke up, "we came here too soon, we didn't know what was waiting for us."  
  
"Now it's up to those two to get us out of this mess, hopefully they'll figure out a way to get us all out before-"  
  
"Don't even say it Duo, I don't even want to think about it." Quatre put is head in his hands. The light burned so much.  
  
"Wonder why we haven't seen Trowa," Duo said, again thinking out loud, "you'd think they'd keep all us spies and sneaks in one cell, ne?"  
  
"Again, something I don't want to think about." It worried Quatre deeply that they had't seen the French soldier, that they hadn't heard anything about him, even when Quatre asked the guard who brought them food if he had seen a tall brunette boy. Nothing, the guard simply walked away without a word. It was frightening.  
  
"God," Duo yawned, "I'm exhausted, mind if I hit the hay with you?"  
  
"Sure," Quatre replied, making room on the lower bunk for his friend. They had both been sleeping together there for the last few days, pulling down the blankets of the top bunk over them to block out the fluorescent lighting. It wasn't the most comfortable way to sleep smashed together, but neither one of them wanted to face the harsh light from the top bunk.  
  
"I wonder," Duo whispered into Quatre's ear, "if those two idiots ever plan to save us."  
  
"I hope so," Quatre whispered back, "and Trowa too."  
  
"You really worried about him?"  
  
"With all my heart." The two fell asleep to the sound of the humming lights.  
  
It was like some surreal lullaby. They'd hum unwavering, singing the two to sleep, sometimes waking them, keeping them up in a strange trance of half sleep before lulling them back. There was nothing but them, the endless light.  
  
The sounds of their singing were broken though, by the sounds of flesh upon flesh. The sound of a person being beaten, being thrashed, being cruelly mocked. The two pilots stirred from the bed, watching the silhouette of the scene through the blanket of the top bunk. There were two men and a lump on the ground, which they were viciously beating.  
  
"The hell." Duo mumbled in a half daze.  
  
"It's a couple of soldiers, and I think another prisoner," a look of fear spread over Quatres face, "you don't think it's Heero or Wufei do you?"  
  
"God I hope not," Duo murmured. The scene then ended abruptly, both soldiers barked their final cruel insults, then slammed the door of the cell. The deadbolt was heard being locked into place, and then, the humming.  
  
Duo and Quatre immediately hopped out from under their tent to see who the mystery victim was. Though beaten and scarred, it was still obvious to the two who it was.  
  
"Trowa!" Quatre cried out, running to his partner's side. He was in an awful state. His clothes were gone, replaced with worn and faded gray bottoms and top. No shoes or socks. He looked incredibly thin, even for him, pale, sunken black eyes. Course, they were black from the awful beating. His face was recognizable, but badly beaten and a dark purple color. There was blood, coming from his nose and few cuts on his cheek. The two pilots just stared in awe, Trowa didn't say a word.  
  
"Let's get him on the bed," Duo stuttered, helping Quatre raise the other boy to his feet.  
  
"Heero said they'd torture him, but, I don't know why I didn't imagine this. Trowa, I'm so sorry." They laid him on the bed, and watched him take in a few deep gasp. He seemed strangely frail. The other two pilots just eyed each other worriedly.  
  
"He looks really bad Quatre," Duo whispered, "and his breath is awfully ragged, he might have some serious internal injuries." Quatre took a deep breath, looking down at his wounded friend. He pushed a side a few strayed pieces of hair from Trowa's eyes. They were so dark and sunken, bruised, their beautiful green color seemed to fade into nothingness. Quatre soon realized he was crying, tasting salt upon his lips.  
  
"Where are those two?" he said below his breath.  
  
"They'll be here buddy, they'll get here in time." Duo tried to smile, but he was as scared as Quatre.  
  
The two sat silently for a long time, watching their companion lie in agony on the bed, listening to his deep breaths and keeping an eye on his more serious wounds. Quatre's mind was at a thousand places at once. All his memories and thoughts of the pilot streaming through his mind. Pictures of a time where the pilot would nonchalantly look up from working on Heavyarms and wave to his blonde friend. Images of him quietly reading a book, relaxing, having a cup of coffee. Then the reality of a boy who could have quite seriously been dying before his very eyes.  
  
The bleeding has stopped, the two were able to clot it, as for internal bleeding they didn't know if there was any, much less knew what to do if there was. Now, it was just trying to keep Trowa comfortable and alive. He didn't speak to them, didn't manage. But he did cry, a few tears every now and again that worried the two. Duo dismissed them as tears of pain, Quatre could sense something else. The tall pilot was concerned and scared. Something was bothering him. They asked him questions, but Trowa never answered.  
  
"Hey Bud, come on you have to give us something, maybe if you do I'll give you a cookie?" Duo bubbled, trying his damn best to stay upbeat. Quatre smiled a bit, he had given up on words. He sat unmoving, Trowa's cold hands tightly clasped in his own.  
  
The hours stretched on forever. Trowa though, didn't look like he was going to last much longer. The two gave up on trying to coax answers from him, and instead just sat in silence, waiting. They waited for Heero, for Fei, for the soldiers to return, for Trowa to speak or him to pass.  
  
During that time they slept again. Duo propped himself up against the wall, allowing Quatre to rest beside the taller pilot. There was something about the two Duo couldn't quite put his finger on. A strange bond, a closeness that they shared. Though no words were spoken between the two all through those long hours, you could see in their eyes, there was an understanding. Duo marveled at it. It was a rare connection the two had.  
  
Quatre's rest was a troubled one. Although he did enjoy the closeness that he and Trowa got to share, the worry of his friend's health kept him awake. He had pulled down two sheets from the top bunk, letting them hang over the side to block out the light. It didn't do much, but it didn't hurt. The only thing Quatre could do was keep Trowa comfortable. Everything was still during that time, through the fitful slumber, the pilots were able to enjoy some peace and quiet. Until he came.  
  
The cell door flew open, slamming violently on the white walls. Duo jumped from his spot as Quatre sat up to see what all the trouble was. Trowa just lied motionless, his eyes wide with terror. Through the sheets, the two boys could make out a group of soldiers, five at most. Standing among them all was a tall, gangly fellow with an awkward stance. He easily kept Quatre's attention.  
  
"We know you are there," came a voice, "I believe there are three of you now?" The voice was boyish, probably that of a young man not much older than Duo or Quatre. There was a twisted, sarcastic tone to it that made both boys a bit nervous.  
  
"I saw the capture myself. A woman with long brown hair and a pretty little blonde thing." Duo grit his teeth at the "woman" comment. "I'm not interested in you two, for now. I want your little friend. He's been with us for quite sometime, but he's been oh so impolite. Hasn't said a word to us. He gets one last chance, then, well, we won't be hearing from him again." Quatre's heart jumped up into his throat. He turned sideways to see Duo, but the braided pilot's eyes were in a deathly fixed stare. The figure of the tall man was approaching their bed. Quatre felt Trowa's body tense in his arms. The look on his face was like nothing Qautre had ever seen. His beautiful green eyes were wide and round, his teeth were grit and breath was becoming increasingly fast. The closer the figure came the worse it got till Duo took things into his own hands. Leaping out from beneath the hanging sheets, he nearly toppled the tall man and made the other soldiers step back and gasp.  
  
"Just stay the hell away from him." Was all the muttered. The was a stifled laugh from the tall man, then,  
  
"Ah, if it isn't our fair lady. Turns out your not what we were all hoping for." The men laughed. "Oh well, we can always overlook that little problem." In a quick and sudden movement, the taller man had Duo around the throat. There was a cry as the pilot was violently thrown across the room. Trowa tensed, Quatre watched on in horror. He could see Duo's frame slowly rise from the ground.  
  
"Stay away from him," he was barely audible.  
  
"And what are you going to do?" the voice mocked, "take another ass beating?"  
  
"If that's what it takes." Quatre cringed at the sounds of the barbaric beating Duo was now receiving by the whole squad now. It didn't last more than a minute and a half.  
  
"Stop," the taller man commanded, "I don't want him dead." He then turned his attention to the bunks.  
  
Quatre felt his stomach drop as the man advanced toward them. He felt the urge to leap outward like Duo had to protect his comrade, but he couldn't take on that many soldiers alone. What was he going to do?  
  
The sheets were violently pulled back, Quatre felt himself pulled from his spot by his collar, Trowa came out tumbling behind him. The lights burned his eyes, he had forgotten how powerful they were. Reflecting of the white, glaring off every surface, it was almost too much. Quatre cracked open his eyes just a bit and looked up at the figure standing over him.  
  
"I think I recognize you," the cruel voice whispered, "you're that rich boy, the Winner boy aren't you?" Quatre didn't answer, he didn't want to even be here. He could see out of the corner of his eyes Trowa lying on his back on the floor heaving. Before Quatre could do anything the tall soldier was grabbing at his collar again. Quatre felt his body being lifted from the ground, and soon found himself face to face with the tall, young soldier.  
  
His eyes were a soft honey color, quite gentle and serene, with edges brimmed in darkness. His raven black hair fell quite casually around his face, it's tips resting beside his pale and drawn lips. He did look as young as he sounded, sharing many of the same boyish charisma as Duo or Quatre or Trowa did. But his uniform suggested something else, that he was more of a man than a child. He was lavishly decorated, his dark OZ uniform sparkled in the fluorescent with silver medals and charms that meant particularly nothing to any of the boys.  
  
The soldiers standing all around them too were quite young, though gruffed up in their uniforms and five o'clock shadows. A couple of the taller ones were holding Duo down. Already he showed signs of bruising around his eyes, and there was blood trickling from his nose and mouth.  
  
"Let me introduce myself," the soldier smiled, tightening his grip on Quatre, "My name is Captain Aidan Renshaw, one of the leaders in charge of seeking out and capturing the Gundams and their so called pilots. Funny how they just seemed to have leapt right into my lap." To this he added a suspicious stifled laugh then quickly dropped Quatre to the ground. The young Arab didn't speak or stir.  
  
"You're friend and I have become fast friends," the soldier walked over to Trowa's body and kicked him furiously in the chest. Trowa groaned and rolled over. "But sadly, he hasn't told me much about you boys and your silly little space toys. By the way, we do have those in our holding docks. Not that it matters really." This last remark sent chills up Quatre's spine.  
  
"What could you need us for then?" he asked quietly. "You have the Gundams, what more could you need, we're no good." Quatre's eyes strayed towards Trowa, watching his chest heave vigorously, hungry for air.  
  
"We know there are more than just three of you, your friend here isn't one to talk, but OZ does have it's resources. We have pictures of two other Gundams, two Gundams that aren't in our holding dock now." Quatre swallowed hard. Pictures? Whatever happened to those who see a Gundam never live to tell about it?  
  
"We just need to know: where are the other two?" Quatre looked up to see the soldier's brooding brown eyes.  
  
"You think we're just going to tell you?" Duo shouted, "You think we'd give up out loyalties that quickly?" The soldier, Captain Renshaw, didn't even turn to face Duo, rather began to advance towards Trowa.  
  
"This young man here has made it obvious that getting information from any of you is almost impossible. In the time he's been here he's never uttered a word except for," Captain Renshaw suddenly kicked Trowa in the chest, causing the taller pilot to let out a cry of pain.  
  
"You son of a-" Quatre leapt to his feet only to be held down by two other soldiers, much like Duo.  
  
"Out with the old in with the new," Renshaw boasted loudly, then turning back to Trowa, "this old wreck may do us some good." He eyed Quatre carefully. "Even subtle weaknesses can prove fruitful. All you have to do is find it, and the rest is easy as pie."  
  
"You think you can work it out of me? You can beat me all you want, I won't say a word!" Renshaw laughed, his voice reached a strange pitch that made both Duo and Quatre shiver.  
  
"Please, I have beaten your friend senseless and it has gotten me no where. The physical beatings only leave me with a carcass, the psychological beatings though may give me the answers I want." A strange smiled curled on Renshaw's face. "Guards, take the tall one down to the warehouse. He has one last chance." Quatre looked over to see Trowa racked with fear. His eyes were wide open, mouth gaping, body shaking. The blonde was almost certain he could see tears in his green eyes.  
  
"Please, leave him alone." Quatre begged. Renshaw stared at him and smiled. "You truly care for your friend, good. I wonder though if that's enough to save him." A guard came over quickly and threw Trowa's wasted body over his shoulder. Trowa made a stifled cry before he was carried off. The guards holding down both Duo and Quatre threw them violently to the ground. Duo got up and swung at one of them, but was hit in the face twice before hitting the ground. Quatre did nothing.  
  
"Fuckin' A!" Duo screamed, his hands trying to cover up his bloody nose. "What the hell was that about? Hey, Quatre!" Quatre didn't move from his spot on the ground.  
  
"I have no idea." he said silently, "one minute he was here, then it all was a blur.."  
  
"That guy was talkin' crazy, that much I know for sure. Oh, ouch!" Quatre turned to see Duo's bloody nose for the first time.  
  
"Mean guys too. Did you see Trowa? It was like he wasn't even there, like he didn't see me or hear me or feel me. They did something to him, God, I wonder what."  
  
"We're sure to know," Duo said solemnly.  
  
"Yeah, I wonder what kind of psychological torture he was talking about? And on which of us he may use it one." Quatre mumbled the last part. He remembered Renshaw's eyes, always looking at him, always looking so deeply at him. It was going to be him who would be subjected to whatever mind games they had.  
  
"Wonder if we're going to make it out of here." Duo said, getting up to join Quatre's side. The lights hummed in the stillness, reflecting off the dark red blood stains that now spattered the pristine white walls. 


	2. The Company of Strangers

Days and nights had lost all meaning by that point. Days filled with children playing in parks, laughing, smiling, enjoying their young lives. Nights of young boys and girls stealing soft butterfly kisses under the pseudo-moons of the colonies. The worlds turned all around them, and they didn't even notice.  
Quatre's mind, though viciously wrapped around Trowa, was also focused on Duo's bloody nose. There was nothing for them to treat it with or clean up. It was quite obviously broken, and resetting it was a big gamble. No matter what, Duo's nose wouldn't ever be the same.  
  
"We won't be able to tell really till the swelling goes down." Quatre sighed, the bruising had gotten pretty bad, Duo now had a purple nose to match his purple eyes.  
  
"Great, there go my girlish good looks," Duo snickered, smiling through his pain. It was a talent and a gift he had, no matter how bad things got he always saw the glass half full. Quatre smiled quietly in admiration. "When do you think Captain Jerkass is coming back?"  
  
"I don't know," Quatre mumbled, "I don't really care to see him again." The blonde dreaded seeing that pale face again. He had a feeling the next time he saw him, Trowa would be dead, and it'd be one of their heads next on the chopping block.  
  
There was no effort to sleep, neither one was really tired after the brutality. Duo was still rather upset with his nose and the lack of Wufei/Herro rescue efforts. Quatre was sick with worry. Trowa could be alone somewhere, abandoned and afraid. He could be in pain, dying, or even already dead. Quatre felt a sharp pain in his chest at that thought. What if I never see him again? What if I never get to see into those deep forest green eyes again?  
  
The silence was quickly broken by the thunderous sound of the steel door against the wall. Both the pilots turned their tired eyes to the darkened hole in the wall to a strange soldier they'd never seen before. There was nothing really remarkable about him, except his eyes. They narrowed in on Quatre, emerald green, shimmering in the blinding light. Quatre felt something inside him twinge when those eyes bore into him. They were so much like Trowa's, yet, yet...  
  
"You, little blonde whore. Get your ass up!" They lacked warmth and heart. They were dead, dead as the man that carried them.  
  
"Don't you talk to him like that!" Duo cried.  
  
"Want me to pop you another one beautiful?" The guard raised his gun.  
  
"Duo please," Quatre begged quietly, "one of us needs to make it through this."  
  
"Don't say that man, it's going to be ok," Duo watched despairingly as the soldier handcuffed Quatre. He seemed to enjoy it a little too much.  
  
"Come on, Captain Renshaw is waiting with your little friend." The guard twisted Quatre's arm violently, making Quatre squirm a bit. The sound of the cell door slamming was heard. The deadbolts moved into place. "We are going to have lots of fun we are, little one." Quatre felt ill hearing those words. Turning he looked into the guards hollow green eyes, the cruelty of his words echoing in the Arab's ears. The guard was almost a mockery of the friend that OZ, that Renshaw had stolen away from him. In a mix of anger and sadness, Quatre spit at the guard, but his insurrection was met with a slap across the face. Quatre fell to the ground dazed and tasting his own sweet metallic blood.  
"Little shit, you ought to learn respect for those who control your life."  
  
The hallways seemed to go on forever. They were bright like the cell, and bustled with the thousands of workings of the ship. Soon, the world turned dark, the halls narrowed and echoed the sound of footsteps and chain rattling rather uncomfortably. The smell of gasoline was strong, Quatre assumed he was pretty far down in the bowels of the ship. If this was the place to kill someone this was it.  
  
An unmarked door was opened, and the two stepped inside. Quatre felt his handcuffs come undone, and the strength of the soldier pulling him into the room.  
  
It was a typical mechanical room: a large but poorly lit space littered with the blackened workings of the ship. In the center of it all stood at least six or seven men, the soldier included and discarded mass of human life lying on the floor.  
  
"Trowa!" Quatre tried to cry out, but his voice was suddenly weak from emotion. He couldn't tell if the boy was dead or still with them.  
  
"I thought there was a girl?" One of the soldiers said.  
  
"No," another replied, "just an pretty little boy. Wonder why Renshaw didn't ask for him?"  
  
"This one is awful pretty! Closest thing I've seen to a girl in a while." The men all broke out in laughter and Quatre blushed, clenching his fist.  
  
"You know what they say," came a familiar voice, "gentlemen prefer blondes." Quatre turned to see the silhouette of a tall, lean man in the doorway. He was immediately identified by one of his men.  
  
"But you sure as hell ain't no gentleman Aidan." Another round of laughter followed.  
  
Renshaw's appearance was quite different now. He was still wearing his olive green riding pants, the mark of his status, but he was not just wearing a simple white button downed top with short sleeves. He was also barefoot, parading around in a pair of black socks. Quatre watched him rather carefully, the man was obviously drunk by the way he walked and smelled, but he tried to pull off a sober act.  
  
"Boys, boys, we have business to attend to. This pretty little thing we've got here came all the way out of hiding just to see his friend." Renshaw motioned to Trowa. "Well, why don't you say hello, pretty little thing." Quatre felt himself being pushed to the ground on top of Trowa. The taller boy let out a sudden gasp of air as his eyes opened. Quatre felt relieved that his friend was at least alive.  
  
"Trowa," he whispered, "it's me, Quatre. God, are you all right?"  
  
"So touching," Renshaw mocked, wiping away a false tear, "two friends reunited again. How long will it last though?" Quatre turned and gave Renshaw the damn cruelest look he could muster. His whole body ached with hatred for the older boy. Renshaw just smiled at him. "No seriously, I'm taking bets, how long will it all last. Cause forever can end in seconds." The last part was said grimly, and Quatre knew that it was meant not only for only him, but for poor Trowa as well.  
  
The blonde suddenly felt his body being lift and held up against a wall by one of the other nameless soldiers. He watched as a another lifted up Trowa like a rag doll, his arms and legs hung lifelessly from his body.  
  
"This is your last chance," Renshaw said, pacing back and forth in front of Trowa, "tell me all I want to know. You know the questions, I've asked you thousands of times, and you know the answers as well. So, what will it be?" Trowa naturally didn't move, he just looked sad, sad and tired. "I figure I can make you talk if I ease up on your punishments and.."  
  
Renshaw suddenly turned and faced Quatre.  
  
"I can turn the punishment on your friend." Trowa made an audible gasp and twitched a bit in the soldier's arms, but Renshaw paid no attention, his golden honey eyes were fixed on Quatre's.  
  
"What do you want from me?" Quatre asked viciously.  
  
"I simply want you to look beautiful." That was the last thing he said before he forced his tongue into the blonde's mouth. Quatre gagged as he felt the warmth pushing itself down his throat. The soldier laughed at him and gripped tighter as Renshaw became more forceful. Quatre again tasted his own blood as Renshaw's teeth bit violently into his lips, pulling and tearing at them. He again heard Trowa's wordless moaning, but was quickly silenced by a fist in his gut. Trowa fell to the floor, and made no other noise.  
  
"Got off me," Quatre yelled, muffled by another man's lips. Renshaw did not relent, only became more persistent. Quatre yelped as he felt himself being fondled by the young captain's long and nimble hands. Quatre's body could not help but to react to it, though he truly loathed being touched by the man. He felt himself on the brink of tears, Trowa was just a few a feet away from him in agony, and he was trapped between a soldier and a sex hungry captain.  
  
"I knew this is the type of person you were," Renshaw mumbled, both hands now playing roughly with Quatre's erection.  
  
"Get off!" he screamed again.  
  
"Oh, he'll get off!" One of the soldiers joked. Again they all broke out into laughter, falling over them selves drunk and stupid. Renshaw pulled back, and laughed a bit himself.  
  
"All right, that's all I wanted," he said coolly, "a little this and that, that's about all your worth physically. After all, I am no gentleman." He gave one last peck on Quatre's cheek, then backed away.  
  
"You're quite passionate, and quite verbal as well. If anyone will be talking, it'll be you, won't it?" Quatre bit his lip, not wanting to answer. "Oh please," Renshaw sighed, "don't hide it now. I know you'd do anything for your little friend, I could get you to jump through a number of hoops I'm sure if I promised not to hurt him."  
  
"Is that what you're hoping?" Quatre asked, feeling weak.  
  
"I don't have to hope, I know you will. Now," he said, advancing towards Trowa's fallen form, "tell me, where are the others?" Quatre didn't answer. Renshaw bent down and lifted Trowa up by his hair. "Again, where are they?" Trowa's eyes were dewy, but he remained expressionless.  
  
"I'll never tell you." Quatre whispered. The soldiers talked quietly amongst themselves, then suddenly, Renshaw slammed his fist right into Trowa's face. The soldiers cheered, Quatre felt his knees give. God, he's going to kill Trowa, I have to do something!  
  
"I don't know how many times I've asked your friend this question, but it's enough times to make me quite ill of it. Don't try me, pretty thing. I'm not in the mood." Renshaw reached back down and pulled Trowa up again by his hair. He was clearly bruised now, with one eye shut and his mouth open breathing heavily. "I don't care if he lives or dies you know, it's all in your hands now. Tell me, where are the others." Quatre now felt tears streaming from his eyes. He couldn't give up his loyalties to the others, he couldn't. They'd never turn on him. But Trowa, his friend, his closest friend was in trouble and needed him. If he told, they're all just die anyway, or worse. And if he told, Trowa's suffering would have been for nothing. They all would just end up being captured anyway.  
  
Quatre suddenly felt ill enough to vomit. His only choice was to watch the brutality and pray that it'd end soon.  
  
"I'm not saying anything," Quatre said, his bottom lip quivering.  
  
"Fine," Renshaw said with a disgusting smile, "now the real fun can begin." The soldiers all cheered on their leader as he began to unzip his pants. Quatre felt as though his breath had been knocked out of his lungs. Renshaw now stood half-naked with Trowa tight in his grip.  
  
"Now tell me, tell me if you want your friend to be safe, where are they?" 


	3. Empty and Aching and I Don't Know Why

Um, wow I'm really surprised with all the feedback I've gotten on this. Thank you all so very much, I'm glad to know someone out there is reading this and actually interested in what may happen next. Again, a big thank you to you all and I hope you continue reading, even after this...  
  
Some people differ on what they consider to be graphic or not, and personally I don't think this is too bad, but it is a detailed rape scene. I'm a huge Trowa fan, but this is just a story. Hope you all still remain intrigued and continue to read the story, despite the graphic-ness, or maybe lack there of *^___^* (there are rape whores out there..) I rated this R for a reason, not to screw around, please understand that. Sank you!  
  
The roses bloomed beautifully that morning. Sweet swirls of whites, oranges, reds, yellows, soft peaches and pinks. Their tips were dappled in the late spring dew, outreached so that the sun would graciously warm their tips. Quatre felt no greater joy than spending mornings with his roses. Walking the rows, sprinkling each one over with his water can. On some exceptional mornings he'd find himself humming an unfamiliar tune. But not this morning.  
  
Above the sounds of life he could hear a soft melody playing over his roses. Quatre followed it until he found himself upon the edge of the garden on a grassy hill beneath perfect blue sky. It was almost surreal, and in the center of it all there was a tall boy playing his flute. His long fingers moved gracefully over the tiny silver keys, his lips pouted and colored a soft pink. Quatre smiled in recognition, it was Trowa, the boy he'd only met a few days ago. Every time he saw his face, heard his voice or listened to his music Quatre became thankful that he didn't attempt to destroy Trowa.  
  
The song ended, and Quatre clapped and cheered. Trowa opened his eyes, surprised to see the young Arab before him.  
  
"Good morning Quatre," he said. His voice was that of an older boy, it was deep enough to show his age, but still had a lighthearted twinge to it that held onto his childhood. He smiled a bit, a subtle smile that only Quatre would have seen.  
  
"Morning Trowa," Quatre beamed back, "that was a wonderful song, what's it called?"  
  
"I'm afraid I don't know.." Trowa said sadly, his voice riding like the morning's gentle breeze.  
  
"How do you know to play it then?" Trowa looked his flute over thoughtfully.  
  
"Well, I used to know a girl who'd sing it to me. Every night before I fell asleep, she'd sing this sweet song to me. I loved it so much, I had to learn it for myself, but I could never remember the words. So, I taught it to myself on my flute. Playing it by ear I guess."  
  
"Who was she," Quatre asked quietly, rather surprised the normally silent boy was sharing so much. "She your mother?"  
  
"Never knew my mother, it was my sister." Trowa suddenly looked rather sad, Quatre didn't ask anymore questions.  
  
They spent the rest of the morning making music together. Quatre showed off his violin, and the two shared their favorite songs and made up a couple of their own. That evening the two dined alone together. Trowa admitted that he felt rather close to the boy, in a way he couldn't explain.  
  
"It's almost as if I love you, though, as strange as this may sound, I'm not quite sure how that feels."  
  
"To love someone," Quatre began, "is to want to spend each day with them, share each and every moment, each and every smile, every laugh. To find comfort and safety, to find compassion and understanding and to know that person feels the same way as well." Quatre blushed a bit, surprised with what he had just said.  
  
"Oh, well then, I'd like to say I'm in love."  
  
"Trowa," Quatre smiled, "I love you."  
  
"Then I can say I'm in love too." The two rarely spoke of the evening after that. They had made their feelings known and that was all that mattered. They had made a connection. Even when Trowa left a few days later, the two were still bound together by some unseen force. The other boys could sense the two were close, the hows and whys of it all were a mystery. They only thing they knew was that they cared deeply for the other, and nothing on earth or in space could change that.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
But that late spring day was far away now and forgotten, deep within the bowels of the OZ ship. Trowa was on the brink of death, and Quatre was a guilt ridden mental wreck. His friend desperately needed him and there was nothing he could do.  
  
"Please," he begged, "please don't do this.."  
  
"Then you'll tell me where the others are?" Renshaw grit his teeth anxiously.  
  
"I can't do that. Please, just let him go." The soldier holding Quatre just laughed at him.  
  
"Well my friend," Renshaw cooed, turning to Trowa, "looks like this pretty little thing won't be helping you today." The captain signaled for one of his men to come and hold up Trowa's body upright on his knees. Renshaw then took one of his hands and forced the brunettes mouth open. "His loss and my gain I suppose."  
  
Quatre watched in horror as Renshaw forced his burning erection into Trowa's mouth.  
  
"You know how this is done," he whispered, "do it like you've done it before." The scene was almost too much for Quatre but the soldier behind him had a firm grip on his neck and was forcing him to watch the awful scene.  
  
"Better learn well, cause your next cutie."  
  
The lips Trowa once used to play beautiful music were now shamed. His eyes that once sparkled in the morning sun were closed, tears were running constant down his cheek. Renshaw had now grabbed hold of the back of the boys head, forcing him to take all of it in. Trowa made a few gagging noises, but Renshaw didn't stop, he only forced it harder.  
  
"He's suckin' like a real pro," one of the guards jeered, "let me have a turn." Each moment more unbearable than the last, the cruel jokes, the violent beatings and now this.  
  
"Eat it up," Renshaw commanded, "it's all your good for anymore."  
  
Trowa suddenly lurched forward, still in the tight grasp of the soldier, a vomited all over himself. It was a weak mix of semen and bile, but it was enough to cause the pilot to cough and shake violently. Renshaw merely stood over him, exhausted but with a bemused look upon his face.  
  
"Not bad, but not your best either. Now," he said, looking at Quatre out of the corner of his eye, "you feel like talking? Cause here's half a dozen of us here and.."  
  
"Please," Quatre cried out, "please, take me, don't do this to him, he's dying." Renshaw made a false effort to think over the plea, then with a sadistic smile:  
  
"Maybe after we're done with your friend. Who's next?"  
  
"I'm not going to tell you anything, just let him go, please." Quatre felt an empty beer can hit him in the face, one of the men became tired of him.  
  
"Shut the fuck up and wait your turn!" This prompted a round of laughs from all the men.  
  
"I'm afraid we'll have to take out the big guns boys if we want to get any answers. Charlston!" Renshaw ordered one of the men from the group. One of the shorter soldiers in the back stepped forward.  
  
"Charlston, remove the soldiers clothes." Charlston smiled, the other men cheered him on.  
  
"Please, please don't do this.please," Quatre could barely hear himself above his sobs. The short man handled Trowa very violently, flipping him over, ripping the faded gray clothes from his body. Quatre had never seen Trowa naked before, and he'd never seen a naked body as damaged as his. Cuts, bruises and scars were all over his body. He was completely wasted, his ribcage was poking through his skin. His skin was ghostly pale even in the dim light. He looked like a mangled corpse. Quatre found that his vision was soon blurred by his sympathetic tears, and it was all for the best, he didn't want to see Trowa like this.  
  
"Oh, you poor pretty little thing you," Quatre felt someone lift his chin up, "I could end this all in a second you know."  
  
"I won't say anything," Quatre sobbed, "I won't...I won't." Renshaw simply shook his head.  
  
"Tsk, tsk. Well, I guess whatever happens next is your fault." He dropped Quatre's chin and rejoined the men around Trowa's body. Quatre felt his neck forced upward by the soldier holding him, again, there was no way to escape the horror.  
  
"I guess your friend is really enjoying the show," he addressed to Trowa, "he's just begging to see more. Good thing your such a little exhibitionist, aren't you?" Renshaw reached down between Trowa's legs and gently ran his fingers up and down Trowa's penis until he was erect. "You do get off on all this attention."  
  
"Come on Aidan," Charlston nagged, "you really need to learn how to share."  
  
"Fine, fine," Renshaw sighed, "I have work to attend to anyway. Have your fun boys, call me if anything happens." He gave Quatre one last cold glare, and then vanished into the darkness.  
  
All this time Trowa was lying on the floor, naked, gasping for air. He was still shaking and still erect.  
"All right, I go first," Charlston kicked Trowa over onto his stomach, "you watching blondie?" Quatre just stared back at him blankly, at a loss for words.  
  
"Whatever." The soldier quickly undid his pants, letting them drop around his ankles. He then kneeled down behind Trowa, and lifted his hips upward. Trowa's upper half lay still, soundless.  
  
Charlston kept his hands firmly on Trowa's hips, moving them back and forth against his burning erection. The men all cried out catcalls at Trowa, and pretended to bet on how many of them it would take to kill him.  
  
The frail and beaten pilot began to pant, and his arms, though they moved slowly and awkwardly, tried to pull his body away. It was beyond pathetic to see. Soon, Charlston began to pick up pace, thrusting and pushing without thought or consequence. Trowa began to cry out, screaming, tears coming down his face. Only a moment ago had he been so lifeless, now, he was using every ounce of strength to break away from his rapist.  
  
Charlston only replied to this by placing his right hand between Trowa's legs, then quite vigorously, began to beat him off. Trowa stopped moving and fell into a heap, sobbing loudly.  
  
"That's right," came the husky voice of the soldier, "take it like the bitch you are." The two moved together, in and out, back and forth, panting in time with each other, until Charlston cried out in orgasm. Trowa soon followed, and the two collapsed, desperate to breathe.  
  
The men celebrated as Charlston climbed off of his exhausted victim. The obligatory high-fives, slaps on the backs and hand shakes were distributed. Trowa lay alone, naked on the ground, having empty beer cans thrown at him. Quatre's body ached to go to him, hold him, comfort him. But he knew in his heart there'd be no comfort for either one of them.  
  
"No, he's putting those lips on my cock next, I'm gonna make him puke all over again!"  
  
"Let's just beat his ass up until his dead, I'm tired of fucking around with him."  
  
"Yeah, I wanna piss on his corpse!"  
  
"Piss on his now dude!"  
  
The men's violent drunkenness had reached a new, incredible low. In Quatre's sapphire eyes, there were soul less hell beast, bent only on destroying on human lives. And now, within their grasp, he knew he's never see day light again, never water his roses again, never hear Trowa play soft melodies upon his silver flute ever again. The will to live was slowly slipping through his fingers, and as he looked up into the shamed and tearful eyes of his comrade, he understood that Trowa had lost that will a long time ago.  
  
"We're under attack!" The door of the room swung open to reveal a very, very young panicked officer. "What the hell are you taking about?"  
  
"The ship, it's under attack. We can't see from what but we need all men in their stations, now!" The door closed and the man holding Quatre finally let him drop to the ground. The young boy took in heavy gasp of air, now realizing how tight he had been held.  
  
"Let's just leave them, he's not going to live much longer anyway." The soldiers all nodded in agreement.  
  
"What about blondie?" Quatre looked up, knowing that they were talking about him.  
  
"We'll be back in no time, we can take care of this later." Quatre stood up, an effort to try and stand up to the men, but as soon as he got to his feet the whole world turned to shades of red. He tasted blood, he felt it oozing, warm, on his face and his head ached uncontrollably.  
  
"That should do it, let's go." Quatre's vision began to dim, but in front of him on the ground he could still see the outline of a wrench, painted in blood.  
  
The concussion began to take over, and Quatre knew it wouldn't be long until he fell from conscience. He heard the final man slam the door, and alone in the darkness it was only him and the sound of Trowa's ragged breath. Quatre listened to it carefully, and with every bit of strength, he pulled himself over to his friends body.  
  
It was cold. Ice cold, touching it was almost frightening. Quatre laid his head down close to his friends chest, and decided to rest forever.  
  
"Trowa, I'm so sorry," he whispered. There was no response. "I wish I could say I'll make this up to you but.." He paused to take a breath. The room reeked of blood and sex. "But Trowa, I don't think that we'll ever leave this room again." Quatre closed his eyes and allowed his mind to go to a different time, filled with blue skies and green fields, dappled with rose blossoms. Of words the two exchanged, of moments they had shared. Quatre suddenly felt an icy hand upon his own, and in his heart he knew..Trowa was in the same place.  
  
Quatre then closed his eyes, expecting to never open them again..  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^  
  
There was noise, a loud noise, a loud and raging noise that woke Quatre from his rest. His body felt incredibly foreign as he attempted to move from his spot. Quatre tried his damnedest to open his eyes and look around but they refused to cooperate. His mind was so groggy he could barely remember his own name, but he knew where he was. Then..  
  
"Trowa!" He shouted, before being overtaken by woosiness again. In his light headed state, he padded about around to find his friend, who was resting right beside him.  
  
"Trowa," he cried, "don't be dead, please." Trowa's body was cold, but breathing lightly. Quatre gave a sigh of relief, then fell over, weary. He suddenly remembered the wrench and the blood and the concussion. His head felt like it weighed two hundred tons or more. Carefully, he pulled himself up, and forced his eyes to open up.  
  
He was still in the dark room, Trowa was sprawled out before him, his tattered and torn clothes not far away and the wrench was next to his right hand.  
  
There was a siren blaring from beyond the room. Quatre recognized the sound, it was an evacuation siren, the ship had come under attack and was now being evacuated.  
  
The tired cranks within the boy began to turn. This was it, if he wanted to escape it was now or never. He was sure if the ship was being evacuated no one would stop them. No one had even come back for them, they were expected to die.  
  
Problem was Trowa was immobile and naked, and he had been beaten over the head with a wrench and wasn't even sure he could stand up.  
  
He made an attempt, fell, and concluded standing was not an option.  
  
His next plan was to drag him and Trowa to safety. First he had to try and clothe his friend, and this would prove no easy task. Quatre wasn't sure where it would be safe to touch Trowa's body. He was well beaten, bruised and scarred, and Quatre didn't want to further the injuries. He also feared that Trowa may still be tender, there was a tiny pool of blood and semen between his legs and on his thighs. Quatre just decided to cover it up with a discarded piece of clothing and hope for the best.  
  
The two moved slowly. Quatre first, dragging himself along, then Trowa, being towed behind his friend. They went like this for quite sometime, till they found themselves in the center of anarchy. Men were running around in pandemonium. Sirens were blaring, warnings were being made, people were yelling and screaming. Quatre just continued to drag along his half naked friend, desperate to find a way out.  
  
At the end of a hall, Quatre found a phone box on the wall. He smiled hopefully, maybe he could use it to call for help. He began to pick up pace, hurriedly dragging himself and Trowa across the steel floor. But he suddenly found himself falling short of the goal, his mind became groggy again, the world began to fade back into shades of red. Darker and darker shades. Turning, he could see huge spots of red on the floor behind him, and placing his hand on the back of his head he found his hair to be warm and sticky.  
  
Quatre took up Trowa's head into his lap, cradling it against his chest. As the men began to rush by, he'd reach out his hand for help. There was nothing else he could do.things were beginning to spin. The men would run by, and not even look down at the two, bloody and helpless.  
  
The world was no a blur, but still Quatre kept his hand up, waving to the strange silhouettes that would pass him by.  
  
Then, he felt his whole body rise upwards, someone had taken him into their arms.  
  
"Thank God I found you!" Came a familiar voice, "I was about ready to give up looking for you two." Quatre smiled and mouthed "Duo."  
  
"Yeah it's me buddy, knew we were all going to get out of this. And Fei and Heero are here too, they got Trowa and we're all gonna be okay, everything will be okay buddy." Quatre felt as if he were about to cry. A great burden had been lifted, they had been rescued, they were all going to make it.  
  
"We'd better move it," Fei said, "we don't have much time. I punctured the four main gasoline tanks along the bottom, and put in some time bombs. Once they explode, this thing is going to go up faster than you can say.."  
  
"Time bombs near the gasoline? Fei, are you fucking nuts?"  
  
"Faster than you can say 'Thanks Wufei for saving my ass.' At least I have a plan to destroy this thing and get you idiots out!" Wufei growled.  
  
"Both of you shut up," Heero bellowed, "he's right, we need to get out of here. Wufei, pick up Trowa's feet and let's move!"  
  
For the second time, Quatre allowed himself to surrender to the concussion. He wanted to rest, it had been a long time since he had rested. Though sirens were screaming all around him, he felt at peace. Everything was going to be ok...everything was going to be ok...  
  
^^^^^^^  
  
No, this is NOT the end. I mean, end on a happy note? There's a little word called aftermath that's about to take place. Hell, it's the real reason this story was written. So sit tight, more to come.. 


	4. Talking Without Speaking

A sharp light ripped into his darkness. It burned like fire: excruciating, remorseless, violent and cruel. Quatre squirmed, trying his best to avoid the fire, get away. The sight of it made his entire body ache.  
  
"Calm down there," came Duo's voice, "if you move, you'll just make it worse."  
  
"Turn the light," Quatre breathed, "turn it...off."  
  
"After I get these bandages on. They really got you good back there, you know that?" The light flickered off. "There ya go, now just get some rest."  
  
"Duo, why.." Quatre mumbled, barely audible. He felt the bed shift as the braided pilot sat down beside him.  
  
"Heero and Fei figured since I hadn't been beaten as bad as you two, I ought to make sure you guys were ok, get you all fixed up. We're on a small carrier ship now, they were nice enough to pick up our Gundams for us."  
  
Quatre laid himself gently down on his pillow, letting his body relax. It felt so nice to just feel safe and warm, knowing he was with friends. Suddenly, the thought of Trowa entered Quatre's mind. Using all he had, he opened his eyes for the first time since he had left the OZ stronghold, and looked up to see Duo smiling down at him.  
  
"Tro.wa?" he asked meekly. The smile on Duo's face faded a bit.  
  
"He's in bad shape, you know." There was a heavy silence before Duo's eyes strayed to the other side of the room. Quatre followed the stare to a bed lying parallel to his own, and on it was a broken boy, wrapped up in bandages and gauze, struggling to breathe.  
  
"I couldn't." Quatre began, but he felt Duo's hand gently rest on his chest.  
  
"It's all right," he sighed, "we all know what happened. It's pretty obvious, I mean, when we found you guys Trowa was half naked. And then when I looked him over for injuries, I.." Duo stopped for a moment, trying to collect himself, but he never finished his thought. Instead, the two sat in silence the rest of the trip home.  
  
Home. Home was on earth. Heero and Wufei piloted the carrier to a small base in Japan. It was well hidden, deep in lush forest, almost completely invisible from above. It was just big enough to hold their Gundams and not much else.  
  
It was close to midnight there on Earth when the boys arrived. They didn't bother with placing the Gundams in their normal places, just made sure they were secure within the carrier, then began their journey back to the house.  
  
Quatre was doing much better by that point, he had been sitting up and was now able to walk, with no assistance from Duo. Trowa on the other hand was a different story. Both Heero and Wufei were very carefully with transporting the body, not wanting to hurt him in any way. It took them close to ten minutes just moving his body from the ship to their ride home.  
  
They laid him down in the back, resting his head and Quatre's lap and bending his knees over Duo. The two heroes took the front seat.  
  
"We'll be there in a little less than half an hour," Heero said, even though they had all made the trip from the base to the house dozens of times. "Hold on Trowa," he added quietly.  
  
No one spoke on the ride back, not even Duo. Quatre quietly watched as Trowa's face would grimace in pain when they hit bumps or dips, but he never opened his eyes. Quatre longed to look into deep forest green, but he didn't wish to disturb his friend. Trowa was sleeping, though fitful, he was sleeping. He truly needed to rest.  
  
They arrived at the house a little before one. Needless to say everyone was exhausted from the event. Wufei and Heero offered to help Quatre with Trowa, but he refused.  
  
"Please, you've all done so much. Just let me take it from here."  
  
"Quatre," Wufei said, helping him from the car, "you've been badly injured. I know you're feeling well and all but maybe it'd be best if we all helped?"  
  
"No," the blonde replied quietly, "you all need to go to bed. Trowa and I share a room, I'll take him back and take care of him myself, all right?"  
  
"Fine," Heero agreed, "Duo, let's go. I'll take another look at your wounds and then we'll go to bed." The two pilots left leaving Quatre, Trowa and Wufei alone. The Chinese pilot watched as Quatre tried in vain to lift Trowa's body from the car.  
  
"Isn't that going to be a little awkward?" Quatre didn't reply. "Here, let me at least help you move him from the car." Wufei walked over and aided his friends. Trowa moaned with each movement, still he wouldn't open his eyes. They worked carefully, and soon, they each had an arm around their shoulders.  
  
"Thank you," Quatre whispered, "now please, just let me.."  
  
"I'll help you take him to your room, then I'll go and I'm not taking no for an answer." Quatre nodded and they entered the dark house.  
  
It wasn't a very large house. It sat wedged into a small hillside surrounded by other houses identical to it. The suburb provided a safe shelter, blending in perfectly with everything around it, the boys just had to be doubly careful in not blowing their covers. There was really only two bedrooms, Wufei's room was a converted office area. There was only one room upstairs, which was shared by Duo and Heero. The only bed was a queen size that they both shared. It was obvious to everyone else (or at least on Wednesday and Saturday nights) that the two did more than sleep up there. But it was never made an issue.  
  
The other bedroom was downstairs and belonged to Trowa and Quatre. The room was long, so they each had their own double bed. At the very end of the room there was a beautiful glass screen door that led out to the back garden. It was the main reason Quatre had picked the room for himself. He wished to someday plant roses out there, but he never did. It just remained a lush spot of grass.  
  
The rush of warm bath water was heard, a bathroom light was all to be seen. Trowa lay on his bed, quietly now watching the blonde stumble around the bathroom. He wasn't fully aware of everything. He knew he was in pain, and that thought prevailed over all others. He recognized the blonde, and he recognized the smell of his own clean linen sheets. He was home.and in bed.but everything couldn't have been a dream.the pain was still too strong.  
  
"Trowa," came a soft voice, "how are you feeling?" Trowa turned his glance to see a child-like face looking into his own. Had Quatre saved him? What had happened..  
  
"I'm going to try and lift you to the tub," Quatre sighed, trying to lift the tall pilot onto his shoulders, "you may feel better after a nice warm bath."  
  
Quatre was silent as he tediously removed each of the bandages from Trowa's wounded figure. In was heart wrenching to see so much blood wrapped so neat and perfect in untainted white gauze. Trowa winced as each of wounds were revealed to the cool night, until there were none left. Duo must have put a pair of sweat pants on Trowa, because they were there and Quatre certainly wouldn't have been able to.  
  
Quatre felt his hands shake as he reached for the drawstring. He was almost too guilt ridden to do it. Until that mission, Quatre had never seen another boy naked, let alone Trowa. And with the violence and disgusting brutality that came along with seeing his friend naked, it make Quatre ill to even think to remove Trowa's clothes. But he needed to be cleaned up and taken care of, it was what needed to be done.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and proceeded to untie the drawstring.  
  
Trowa's body began to shake a little as well, and Quatre could help but to smile.  
  
"Guess we're both a little nervous," he said shyly.  
  
Trowa grimaced a bit as his naked body touched upon the warm water. Quatre helped him ease in until he was sure everything was all right. Sapphire eyes looked over the mangled body, and noticed a trickle of blood in the water coming from behind it. They sharply turned away.  
  
Quatre did his best not to injure his friend, gently moving a soft white towel over his body, gingerly cleaning the wounds. It took a good deal of time and patience, but the end result was a clean and relaxed Trowa. He wasn't shaking anymore, and his face was rather placid, though very sad.  
  
The blonde sat Trowa up on the toilet, top down of course, and found his friend a clean pair of pajamas to sleep in. Again, he had to move in a delicate manner as to not injure Trowa any further. He was relieved to slip on a pair of flannel bottoms, seeing Trowa's naked body was finally too much for Quatre. Last, he put on a matching top and began to button up the front rather slowly.  
  
As he reached the top, he looked up to see Trowa looking down at him. His soft green eyes expressed such sadness it stopped Quatre in his tracks. They were so worn and tired, desperate for sleep, for some escape from the pain. Quatre felt his hand reach up and gently touch his friend on the cheek. Green eyes began to shimmer, brimming with silver tears. Quatre wiped them away, and helped Trowa to his bed.  
  
The night wasn't dark. A silvery blue full moon showered the earth in a glossy layer of light. It reflected off the grass and tress, gilding the flora in a faux silver. It was enchanting and whimsical, but the rare and unique beauty of the evening was lost in sadness and exhaustion. Quatre yawned deeply as he tucked Trowa into his bed, making sure his friend was as comfortable as could be.  
  
"I'm sorry, this is all I can do for now." He said softly, smoothing the edges along the blanket. He knew he needed to find a doctor, and soon, but it would have to wait till the morning. Well, later morning. Quatre opened the doors to reveal the grassy yard that was theirs, and the splendor of the evening light. He could hear the soft ringing of a wind chime, and looking out he saw a frail and humble one blowing in the wind. Quatre smiled, it had been a present from Trowa after they'd moved into the house.  
  
"You hear that," he asked, "there must be a wind. Strange, it's such a warm evening." Quatre stopped, realizing his friend wouldn't be able to answer back.  
  
Quatre pulled up a small chair in the room, and seated himself between the open door and Trowa. There was a long silence as he thought about what to say. Usually he and Trowa had a good speaking relationship, but now Quatre was at a loss for words. So much had happened, between Trowa being raped and Quatre's near death experience, there was a world of conversation, yet the blonde didn't really feel like even thinking about it. It was something he'd rather had never happened, and he never really wanted to deal with again. But he had a feeling, now looking at his poor friend, it would be something he'd be dealing with for a very long time. He wished there was something he could do, to erase everything, to erase the pain and anguish and fear, but..  
  
"What was that song." Quatre began quietly, "the one you'd always play." Looking up, he saw no emotion in Trowa's eyes. "You'd play it on your flute, in my garden. Such a beautiful song." He watched Trowa for a moment, then slowly, in the moonlight he saw a smile spread across his face. The melody was not too fresh in Quatre's mind, but he tried his best to hum it. There were no words that he knew of, but he imagined they must have been lovely, as lovely as the song itself. He hummed it until Trowa fell asleep, his voiced mixed with the warm wind and the chime. And soon after his friend nodded off he sat up and watched the chime spin in the breeze, dancing in the starlight, it's shadow elongated on the slivery grass.  
  
Are you going to Scarborough Fair:  
  
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.  
  
Remember me to one who lives there.  
  
She once was a true love of mine.  
  
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt:  
  
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;  
  
Without no seams nor needle work,  
  
Then she'll be a true love of mine.  
  
Tell her to find me an acre of land:  
  
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;  
  
Between the salt water and the sea strand,  
  
Then she'll be a true love of mine.  
  
Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather:  
  
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;  
  
And gather it all in a bunch of heather,  
  
Then she'll be a true love of mine.  
  
Song by Simon and Garfunkle, if ya'll didn't know. Really beautiful song, although the version of it that inspired this fic is the Sarah Brightman version. Suggest you have a listen to it sometime. Anyway, if you also haven't noticed, all the title for the chapters are lines from Simon and Garfunkle songs. Oh la la. Anyway, lots more to come, so stay tuned. 


	5. A Rock Feels No Pain

Wufei was the first to wake that morning. As always, he woke up promptly at 8 A.M., stretching his long arms over his head in an invigorating yawn. The young Asian clad his naked body in his traditional white linen clothes and tied his black hair in a modest pony tail before heading off to make breakfast. Wufei would begin each morning with a bowl of rice and egg with two slices of plain wheat toast. He would then proceed to do basic chores around his house and in the yard.  
  
Duo and Heero had a less traditional morning. Usually the two were up just an hour after Wufei. But this morning the two slept past 11, waking just before noon. Before heading downstairs for a late breakfast, Heero felt in necessary to check up and rebandage Duos' nose which displeased the braided pilot quite a bit. Having slept in so long, he was nothing less of starving. Heero dismissed his partner and turned back to his bed trying desperately to catch a few more Z's. It had been a very late night.  
  
"Hey Fei," Duo hollered out into the front lawn, and empty egg carton in his hand, "I was gonna make scrambled eggs, what gives?" Wufei looked up from the light yard work he was doing and gave Duo an evil glare.  
  
"There were two left, I always have two eggs, deal with it Duo or get dressed and go to the store."  
  
"Get dressed? I wanted to make scrambled eggs for Quatre and Trowa, it's their fave breakfast food."  
  
"Well," Wufei sighed, coming back into the house, "I haven't seen them all morning, and unlike you I have been up all morning. You should probably make plans to cook their favorite dinner."  
  
"Oh man," Duo cooed worriedly, "you think they're ok?"  
  
"They're probably just dead tired, they had a long night last night I'm sure," Wufei reassured. "Now may I please get back to my yard work?"  
  
"Shouldn't you be doing some technical mumbo jumbo clean up work with Heero or something. I mean, after all, we blew up a major enormous OZ ship last night, in case you don't recall." Duo smirked.  
  
"Yes, I do recall, but I was going to wait until Heero woke up, so until then.."  
  
"I'm up now," came a voice behind Duo. Wufei peeked over to see a boxer clad Heero standing behind him.  
  
"So much for your yard work Fei." Duo laughed.  
  
"Duo, finish Fei's yard work, then after that there's a pile of dishes in the sink that has your name written all over them." Heero said without a hint of amusement. Wufei couldn't contain his laughter.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
Quatre awoke with the afternoon sun in his eyes. He didn't remember falling asleep; in fact he didn't remember much of the previous night. It was all just a nasty headache to him now. His body ached from sleeping all night in the tiny chair, and his vision had been reduced to a weak blur just in front of his nose. Quatre rubbed his eyes vigorously, but it didn't do much good. His eyesight had suddenly become very poor. Touching the back of his head, Quatre could still feel his bandages from the night before, which brought back a flood of awful memories. The ship, the capture, the beatings, the torture, the explosion....but that was all over now. Now it was time to nurse the wounds the battle had given them, though some ran deeper than others.  
  
"Hey Quatre," came a perky voice, "did you have this door open all  
night?"  
  
"Yeah, it was warm..is that you Duo?" Quatre felt woozy.  
  
"Course it's me, why? Do I look different?"  
  
"No, but.." Quatre was ready to topple over.  
  
"But what? Quatre, you're not looking too good." Duo placed his hand on Quatre's forehead.  
  
"It's my vision, it's all blurry. I think," he said, reaching again for the back of his head, "I think something happened when that wrench hit me. Funny, I was okay last night.."  
  
"I think we need to get you and Trowa a doctor." Trowa. Quatre felt his mind race, he'd forgotten Trowa. How could he?  
  
"Duo, is he okay, I mean, how does he look?" The blonde tried to get up out of his chair, but Duos' hand restrained him.  
  
"Relax, he's sleeping. If you want to get up be careful, I'd hate to see you injure yourself again."  
  
"He's sleeping, are you sure?"  
  
"Quatre," Duo sighed, "he's not dead if that's what you're asking. Here," taking Quatre's hand, Duo led his friend over to Trowa's bedside, where he placed Quatre's hand on Trowa's heaving chest. "See, he's fine." The young boy smiled, though his distorted vision he was able to make out his friends sleeping form.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^  
  
"I don't think we can manage a doctor," Heero said grimly, his eyes glued to his laptop screen.  
"Can't manage?" Duo raged, "what do you mean? We have two seriously injured people upstairs, one's blind and the other is, I don't know, in a coma or something!"  
  
"You know Duo, just because you yell, doesn't mean I'm going to do anything. Wufei and I have a lot of work to do, so if you please,"  
  
"Heero, don't do this!" The braided boy whined, "this is totally serious."  
"He is right," Wufei perked up, "I mean, how are we supposed to find a doctor? How are we supposed to get them here?"  
  
"We look them up in a phone book and give them directions to the house, easy."  
  
"No, it's not," Heero said flatly. "Our job, no matter what, is to lie low and not draw attention to ourselves. We can't just drag somebody we don't know, can't trust, can't believe into the house. What do we tell them? That those two were injured on a secret mission on an OZ ship? Which, by the way, is all over the news."  
  
"Ok, so it's a risk, I understand that. But isn't it a risk to leave those two without any medical attention alone?" Duo was trying his hardest, but he had a feeling that wasn't going to be good enough.  
  
"Even if we got a good doctor to treat the two, there's still the issue with Trowa's," Wufei paused, "Trowa's rape. Any doctor would have to call the police, we'd have to file a report and cross all sorts of red tape."  
  
"Wufei, come on, you've seen them, they're in terrible shape. Quatre is half blind now!"  
  
"They're right Duo." Three heads turned to see Quatre, disheveled, tired and still dressed in his clothes from yesterday standing before them. "I can't risk the sacrifice of the whole group just for the two of us. I can take care of Trowa, he's not in the best shape right now, I know. He still hasn't woken up." There was a heavy silence there. The four of them were in the living room, which was basically a large office with a couch and TV. Heero sat on the floor, his lap top in hand, Wufei beside him with numerous papers piled up around his as well as a laptop. Duo was pacing about.  
  
"Wufei," Duo began, "what was the name of the lady friend of yours?"  
  
"Oh, Sally?"  
  
"Yeah, she's a doctor, ain't she? And we can trust her."  
  
"Well," Wufei sighed, "I'll have to find her first. There's no telling where she is, can never keep track of that woman."  
  
"But if you find her, Heero, we can bring her here, we can trust her. Right?" Heero groaned, then rubbing his eyes and looking at Duo:  
  
"Fine, if Fei can find her. But only her."  
  
"Wufei?" Duo asked hopefully?  
  
"I'll get right on it."  
  
Sally didn't take too long to find. As a matter of fact, she wasn't too far away. She had spent the last 5 months in south Asia aiding in barbaric guerilla wars that had finally been called to a halt. She agreed to doctor the two boys. She'd take a plane from where she was in Cambodia and see the boys that evening.  
  
"She said around eight or nine," Wufei informed Quatre, who was sitting in his chair beside Trowa's bed, "so, if you can make it till then."  
  
"I'll be okay, my vision is getting a bit better."  
  
"And Trowa?"  
  
"Don't know yet.."  
  
Trowa finally woke up around 7:30 that evening. Quatre noticed two tiny green blurs and felt his heart jump into his throat.  
  
"Oh, Trowa, you're all right! I was so scared! Are you okay, are you in any pain?" But there was no response. "Trowa, it's okay, you're safe now. We rescued you, remember, everything is going to be okay. No one is going to hurt you." Silence. "Trowa?"  
  
At 8:17 Sally arrived with a few modest medical supplies packed neatly into an oversized military bag. She seemed thinner than usual, and she wasn't wearing all the make up she generally wore but that didn't bother the boys too much. They were just happy to see her.  
  
"It's good to see you again," Wufei said, giving Sally a firm handshake. She laughed a bit.  
  
"You too, now, where are my two patients?" She looked around, and caught a glimpse of Duo and his broken nose.  
  
"Is this him? I hope you didn't call me all the way from Cambodia for a broken nose."  
  
"Oh, no, not me," Duo said, self conscientiously covering his nose, "they're over here, follow me."  
  
By that time in the evening, the house was pretty dark save for a few misplaced lights that Heero bought for a total of eight dollars at a thrift store. But Trowa and Quatre's room was surprisingly bright and cheery, despite the sad scene that was being played out in it. Quatre was still sitting in the chair, worriedly looking over poor Trowa, he didn't even notice Sally come in.  
  
"Quatre," she said quietly, placing her things on his bed. Quatre looked up, squinting his eyes.  
  
"Sally? You here?"  
  
"Yes, I've come to have a look at you and Trowa."  
  
"Fei told me," Quatre said quietly, getting up from his chair, "would you look at Trowa first? I can't understand what's wrong with him."  
  
"Well, explain to me what happened." Sally said casually. She began to dig though her bag. "The other boys were a bit fuzzy on the details, I'm not too sure about what's going on other than you boys were involved with the destruction of that OZ ship."  
  
"Yeah we were, but, that's all they said?" Sally nodded her head.  
  
"I figured you and Trowa would be better at telling me what's wrong anyway. Why is he lying down?" Quatre suddenly felt ill. He didn't want to talk about this, he didn't even want to think about it.  
  
"Well, Sally," he began quietly, "Trowa was badly beaten by the soldiers."  
  
"Oh," came Sally's concerned voice. She quickly looped a stethoscope over her neck and approached the bed. "And broken bones, fractures?"  
  
"Not sure, he hasn't spoken at all. He only woke up maybe half an hour ago."  
  
Trowa, can you hear me?" Sally boomed. "If you can hear me please respond." Silence. Sally pulled out a small flashlight and looked into Trowa's eyes. "He's conscience, at least. Trowa, you want to tell me what's wrong?" No answer.  
  
"There's more too," Quatre whispered.  
  
"I'm sorry, what did you say?"  
  
"There's more, Trowa wasn't just beaten."  
  
"What do you mean," Sally asked, still checking Trowa's eyes.  
  
"He was.."  
  
"He was what, what's wrong?" Quatre took a deep breath. Then, quietly:  
  
"Trowa was raped." A heavy silence immediately filled the room. The  
blur Quatre recognized as Sally looked up at him, and slowly, walked over to where he was.  
  
"Are you sure?" She asked. You could tell she wanted the answer to be  
no.  
  
"I saw the whole thing, it happened right before my eyes. Look for  
yourself if you don't believe me." Quatre swallowed hard. He watched Sally's blur walk over to the bed and peek under the sheets. A soft crying noise came from Trowa. "Careful," Quatre added. After a few moments Sally looked up.  
  
"He's going to need stitches." Her voice was grim, and understandably so.  
  
"It's that bad?" Quatre was ready to vomit at the thought.  
  
"Yeah, and I'm going to need your help." Sally said, slipping on a  
pair of rubber gloves. "Sit by Trowa and try to keep him relaxed. I'm afraid this will hurt a bit." Quatre sat down at the head of the bed beside Trowa, and gently placed his hand on his friends.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I didn't want you to feel anymore pain."  
  
"Ready?" Sally asked, sterilizing a few frightening looking tools.  
  
"I suppose so. This will be quick, right?"  
  
"I'll try my best." Sally lifted up Trowa's legs and spread them wide  
open exposing the injured area. She then seated herself at the foot of the bed in front of him, like a doctor in front of a woman in labor. Something about it made Quatre uncomfortable.  
  
It took about ten minutes for Sally to put the stitches in, but those ten minutes could have easily been ten hours. Quatre begged Sally to stop after the first stitch, Trowa was crying out in such violent pain, he knew neither one of them could take much more. It hurt him tremendously to try and restrain his friend, Trowa was flailing around in agony, crying at the top of his lungs.  
  
"Trowa, it will all be over soon," Sally said, trying to hold Trowa's  
legs still.  
  
"Maybe we should stop, he's in so much pain already," Quatre pleaded.  
  
"This is for the best, the skin is ripped. Besides I'm almost done." When it was all over, Trowa has a total of 11 stitches in him. It wasn't a pretty sight to say the least.  
  
"I don't understand it," Quatre said, tucking Trowa back into his bed, "whenever I try and talk to him he won't respond, but when you put in the stitches he was yelling and screaming. Does this mean he's in a coma or something?"  
  
"Not really," said Sally, "it might mean that..uh, Quatre?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"The bedding is all askew, you want some help with that?"  
  
"Oh, sure, I didn't notice. See," Quatre pointed to his bandage, "I got hit in the back of the head and this morning my vision was all blurry. I haven't been able to see correctly since then."  
  
"Well, why didn't you have me look at that?" Sally dashed over to Quatre and flashed her little light in his eyes.  
  
"I thought it was more important for you to see Trowa, I've been worried about him. What were you saying about him being in a coma or not?"  
  
"Oh sorry," Sally turned off her light, "you know, it may be better if we go out in the hall."  
  
"I see," Quatre said quietly. He had a feeling that couldn't be good.  
  
The rest of this house was dark, very dark, Quatre couldn't even make out Sally's face.  
"He's been beat badly, I'll say that," she began, "bruises, scratches, tearing of the skin, thankfully no broken bones. But he lacks any head injuries. I wasn't able to detect anything severe."  
  
"He's been like this since we found him," Quatre sighed.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"The OZ ship fiasco, it was a rescue mission. Trowa went alone and hadn't returned. When we found him he was a mess. He wasn't speaking, barely even moving and.." Quatre paused.  
  
"And, what else?"  
  
"When I saw him get raped, I have a feeling it wasn't the first time. His was body had been beaten so badly, and the way the men would talk." Sally nodded.  
  
"I agree, there's no way one person did that one time to him, which leads me to believe that his behavior is all psychological."  
  
"So, physically he's all right?"  
  
"He's going to need some time to heal his body, but his behavior is not a result of that. What Trowa has gone through is extremely traumatic, there's no way to say how he's feeling or how he's going to deal with the number of emotions inside of him. Right now, he's probably in shock and his body has just shut down."  
  
"Shut down?" Quatre raised his voice.  
  
"Yes, his body and mind may have just, well, stopped. The mind is a mysterious thing, and like I said, there's no way to know about how he's going to deal with all this."  
  
"Well, what a, I supposed to do?" Quatre asked feeling panicked. Nothing Sally was saying was really making any sense.  
  
"Keep him comfortable, relaxed, make sure he's taken care of and try not to upset him. Other than that there isn't too much you can do except for sit and wait for him to come out of it." Quatre sighed a muffled "Oh God," and placed his head in his hands. "Would you like me to tell the others?" Sally offered.  
  
"No, I can do it," Quatre said quietly.  
  
"All right, before I go though I want to give you glasses for those eyes."  
  
"Glasses?"  
  
"Yes," Sally replied, "I don't have any great medical equipment with me right now, so I can't say for sure what's wrong with your vision. But for now, I can give you some glasses which may help you see a bit better. Though I'm sorry to say you're vision may never be as good as it used to be." Quatre didn't respond, he simply just looked sad. "Don't worry," Sally said to him quietly, putting her hand on his shoulder, "you're going to be okay, the both of you. In our lives, we will always manage upon hard times, but through the strength we find in our loved ones we ourselves are able to find the strength to go on. Trowa needs your love now, that is what is going to pull him through all this. Give him your love, give him everything you have inside. I know it will be enough." Quatre wanted to smile at her, to let her know he acknowledged her kind words, but that moment no compassion could reach him. His world was shaken in such a disturbing way he began to doubt his own heart and its ability to love. 


	6. Who Will Take Pity In His Heart?

Reality was becoming heavier and heavier, though thankfully less blurry. Quatre adjusted his new wire rim glasses, trying to get used to the feeling of having something resting on his nose. The spectacles were quite large, encompassing Quatre's blue eyes entirely in the lenses, and they had a habit of sliding down his nose every five seconds.  
  
"At least you can see now," Wufei commented, trying to paint a sunny picture.  
  
"I suppose, though, some colors seemed to be a bit washed out, and some distant objects are still blurry, but Sally said my vision would probably never be the same."  
  
"So, what's wrong? Is he still not talking" Duo asked in a quiet sort of voice. In all honesty none of the boys wanted to hear what Sally had to say about the situation, the less they had to think about it the better.  
  
"No, no he's still not talking. Sally said that he might be in shock, that what happened to him was very traumatic and that he may have some problems, you know, coping with it all." The boys all nodded, acknowledging that they understood.  
  
"Anything we can do to help?" Wufei asked anxiously.  
  
"No, I want to take care of this, now that I have my vision back. It won't be hard, I just have to keep him happy and comfortable and try not to upset him till he comes out of it."  
  
"We can pitch in you know," Wufei said quietly, putting his hand on the blondes shoulder, "he's our friend as well. If you need any help."  
  
"I know, I know," Quatre backed away, "but for now, I just want to do this alone. Please just try and understand that, ok?" Wufei nodded and Quatre retreated back to his room.  
  
Trowa was lying peacefully on his bed, eyes closed and mouth partly opened, breathing gently. Quatre watched him from the doorway for a few moments, enjoying the peaceful tone the presided over the room. It made him happy to see Trowa so relaxed. For a moment it seemed perfect, until Quatre noticed a small bit of red on the bed sheets. Coming closer he realized it was a dabble of blood. Swallowing hard, Quatre lifted up the bed sheets to find a huge stain of blood starring right back at him. Above, he could clearly see Trowa's stitches, still raw and bleeding.  
  
Quatre clutched his stomach, feeling it become tighter and tighter. The blood, it's dark red color, the deathly smell......he suddenly felt light headed. His mind began to recall the escape on the ship, his brutal beating and Trowa's rape. All that blood..  
  
There was a sudden rush of pain to the back of Quatre's head and the blonde soon found he was barely able to stand up. He stumbled awkwardly for a moment before finding his chair near the bed. Once he was seated, he laid his head down on the bed beside Trowa and tried his best to get the bloody image out of hid head, though he could still smell the blood. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to focus on Trowa's rhythmic breathing. Soon, he was asleep.  
  
The large red blocked letters read "1:06", or possibly "1:08." There was a large glare form the table top lamp, which made the clock difficult to read. Quatre lifted his head from the bed, it felt strangely heavy. He noticed his vision was back to the weak blur it had been once before and he couldn't find his glasses. He assumed he had either taken them off before he laid down or they'd fallen off in his sleep. After a bit of searching, Quatre found them resting on the top of his head. He laughed half heartedly at himself, it was the first slightly amusing thing to happen to him in quite some time.  
  
Slipping the specs back on, the world became rich again with sight. Quatre sighed heavily as he turned to face Trowa who was still peacefully asleep.  
  
Quatre rubbed the back of his head, trying to figure out what had woken him up, but his moment of thought was destroyed as Duo came busting through the door.  
  
"Hey, I've been calling you for like five minutes! Come here, you have to see this!" Without answering him, Quatre got up and followed his braided friend into the living room. There, he saw Wufei and Heero once again sitting on the ground, though their eyes were more focused on the T.V. than their laptops.  
  
"We just got the news report from America about the attack, can you believe it?"  
  
"There's no real cause for celebration Duo," Heero said in a dark voice, "that means the attack has been covered on every news channel in almost every country on earth. You think that's a good thing?"  
  
"Yeah huh!" Duo cheered excitedly, Wufei just shook his head and tried to hide a small smile.  
  
"Is that what you brought me out here for?" Quatre asked, feeling a bit annoyed.  
  
"No, no, there's something you have to see, here, sit down." Duo motioned toward the couch, covered with papers of course. Quatre sat himself down and watched the news report to see what all the excitement about. Then, a familiar face came onto the screen.  
  
"Captain Aidan Renshaw, a young up-and-comer on the OZ force was also tragically killed in the explosion." Quatre had a sudden feeling as if he was falling. Seeing those honey brown eyes again, starring back at him...Quatre soon realized her could head the boy's voice echoing in his head.  
  
"The death total in now up in the thousands. This destructive act against OZ so far has no real explanation. Many theories point to terrorism in the knowledge that the ship had been ripped open from the bottom by a series of bombs. But considering the ship, The Descendant, was one of the newest on the fleet and had seen no action it's a mystery why the ship was attacked."  
  
"So?" Duo asked, grinning moronically.  
  
"So?" Quatre repeated.  
  
"He's dead! He's dead, he's gone, can you believe it?"  
  
"I suppose he is," Quatre said quietly. He was silent for a moment, the meekly, "good, he got what he deserved." Heero raised an eyebrow, not truly convinced by Quatre's words.  
  
And he had a reason to be suspicious. Quatre really didn't feel full knowing that Renshaw was dead, it didn't take away the pain. It didn't make him whole, it didn't make Trowa whole. It couldn't fill the quiet void that existed somewhere now inside of Quatre. Renshaw was dead, and it didn't really matter, it just didn't.  
  
"I'm going back to bed," Quatre said, getting up from his spot.  
  
"Hey," he heard Duo call to him, "you planning to change those clothes any time soon?" Quatre looked down and realized he had been wearing the same clothes that he had on when he left on the mission. Suddenly felt very, very disturbed...  
  
It felt nice to slip into some pajamas, and Quatre was quite glad that he had done the wash before he left. Being in his nice warm clean pj's somehow made him feel more relaxed. His bed was still well made, unwrinkled linen sheets and two soft down pillows. It was calling his name, but Quatre knew the best place for his was by Trowa's side, his friend needed him to be close.  
  
As Quatre lay his head back down on the bed, the familiar smell of blood filled his nostrils.  
  
"The sheets," he whispered quietly to himself. He knew he couldn't just leave them on there. Quickly, he glanced at Trowa and saw his friend was still in a deep sleep. Then, he pulled the blankets of the bed to once again reveal the ruined sheets. Quatre cringed as he carefully removed the sheets from the bed. The bright red stain was now a brownish, rusted color, and the raw skin around Trowa's stitches wasn't looking any better. It was a task trying to move Trowa's body so he could collect the sheets, but Quatre was able to do it, and not wake his friend on top of that.  
  
As he was rolling up the sheets, he noticed a stain on the mattress, but it wasn't blood, it lacked the rusty color. Quatre unrolled the sheets and noticed that there was another stain on the sheets he hadn't noticed before. It didn't take the blonde long to figure out what it was.  
  
He felt awful, just standing over his friend, holding a set of wet sheets. The burden on Quatre's back suddenly got heavier. In a sleepy and dazed state he wandered back out into the hallway to do laundry. The trip wasn't too long thankfully, since the washer and dryer were both in the downstairs closet. The only problem was, it drew attention from the other boys.  
  
"Is that you Quatre?" came Heero's voice.  
  
"Yeah.." Quatre answered meekly.  
  
"It's like 1:30 in the morning, what the hell are you doing?"  
  
"Laundry," Quatre answered in an even softer voice. Looking up, he could see Heero standing at the other end of the hall looking at him quite seriously.  
  
"What for?" He asked as if Quatre were hiding something.  
  
"There was some blood on the sheets," Quatre showed them to Heero, careful not to show him the other wetness.  
  
"Blood?" came both Wufei and Duo's voice, and they soon popped up behind their leader. Quatre felt a bit embarrassed now, he wasn't really excited about disclosing the news of Trowa's stitches.  
  
"Where did the blood come from?" Heero asked in that same monotone, yet strangely frightening tone he used just before he ripped someone in half with his Gundam.  
  
"Trowa, Sally gave him some stitches.."  
  
"So," Wufei said grimly, "that's the screaming we heard earlier." Quatre didn't say anything, he preferred to pretend that the other boys didn't hear the screams.  
  
"Well," Heero said, turning back to his work, "make it snappy, and don't make too much noise. We're still watching the news."  
  
The problem was that no matter how silent one tried to be, the washing machine had a habit of making more noise than anything else in the house. At times the boys debated replacing the old thing, but since it was rarely used (and I do mean rarely) the debates never truly lasted that long. Though that night, I'm sure the boys, especially poor Quatre who almost no sleep, would have liked to have had something more updated.  
  
Somehow through all the racket, Trowa remained sound asleep, breathing gently. 


	7. Where My Love Lies, Waiting Silently For...

Two weeks passed since the mission, and the world still lacked a sense of normalcy. Sally came and went, removed the stitches and gave a quick check up to Quatre, Trowa and Duo who had thankfully recovered from his broken nose. Quatre's vision remained steady with his new glasses, but sadly, Trowa's health was not improving.  
  
"He's lost a lot of weight," Sally observed, "what have you been feeding him."  
  
"All he can eat is yogurt and applesauce, I've tried feeding him other things, but they never stay down." Sally scratched her nose as her eyes turned to face Quatre. "You've lost a lot of weight too you know, have you been eating?" The blonde shook his head. "I just don't feel hungry, and besides, where would I find the time? I'm always caring for Trowa."Quatre rested his head in his hands.  
  
"Tired too? You need to be taking care of yourself as well, how can you be any help to Trowa in such a state?"  
  
"I sleep," Quatre defended himself, "I sleep when Trowa does, sometimes."  
  
"Sometimes?" Sally asked.  
  
"Sometimes I'm busy doing laundry, but mostly, I stay awake just in case he needs me."  
  
"Quatre, you need to be realistic. Trowa isn't going to need you every 5 seconds, I'm glad that you have taken the responsibility of caring for your friend, but look at yourself, you're a wreck!"  
  
"I know," the blonde said sheepishly, "Wufei and Duo keep telling me the same thing."  
  
"What about Heero?"  
  
"Oh, he doesn't seem to care much about either one of us,"  
  
There was a silence in the room, and the two listened to Trowa's soft, barely audible breathing. At times it would become uneven and every now and again it seemed as if he was making small coughing noises.  
  
Quatre looked up into Sally's eyes, then, softly, almost tearful, "Sally, he's not getting better." The doctor found herself at a loss of words for a moment. Though she really didn't have that much experience in that area, she did feel somewhat certain that Trowa would eventually just snap out of it and be all right. But now it was becoming apparent to both of them that something like that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.  
  
Trowa lay peacefully in his bed. His eyes were half open and his lips were slightly parted. His was skinny and haggard looking. He almost looked as bad as he did when Quatre had first seen him on the ship, minus the cuts and bruises which the blonde had been carefully tending to each day. His health was clearly slipping and there was nothing anyone could do..  
  
"Look, Quatre.." Sally felt herself choking back on her own words as she looked down into his sapphire eyes, "maybe you should consider finding another doctor, someone who may be able to help?"  
  
"We can't," Quatre replied angrily, "Heero won't allow it, he's worried doing something like that may endanger us all. Don't get me wrong, I understand where he's coming from but...but,"  
  
"But what?"  
  
"Look at him!" Quatre screamed, "can't you see there's something wrong?" There were tears in his eyes, but even those couldn't slow down his rage. "It's almost as if he's slowly trying to kill himself right before my eyes and I can't stop it! Sally, I'm trying my hardest here! I feed him, I bathe him I take care of him, I want him to live.and.there's nothing..nothing is helping." Quatre fell down into his chair and cried. It felt good, it felt good to scream and cry and hurt. He took off his glasses and wiped his tears away in vain, for as soon as he did his eyes would brim over once more. "I don't want him to die.." he sobbed quietly.  
  
Sally stood in awe, not sure how to feel. She placed a hand on Quatre's shoulder, hoping to alleviate the heavy tension in the room.  
  
"Maybe I can take him with me?" She suggested.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Quatre asked, still wiping his tears away.  
  
"I can take him with me when I leave, find a psychiatric hospital where he can be taken care of and treated. It might be able to help."  
  
"No," Quatre leapt to his feet, startling Sally, "I'm sorry but, no. I couldn't do that to him."  
  
"It may actually do him some good, and you said yourself something was wrong that you can't seem to fix. I might be able to find someone who could help you, isn't that what you want?" Quatre was silent for a moment, thinking.  
  
"It may be selfish, but I rather he be with me. I don't want to lock him away, somewhere far away in a lonely cell. I want him to be close."  
  
"It's quite a paradox," Sally said, "I agree that it may be hard for him to be away from all of you, especially you Quatre, I'm sure it means a lot to Trowa that you've stood by him and cared for him."  
  
"If he knows I'm here," Quatre said under his breath.  
  
"But, at the same time it may also be better for him to get some real psychiatric help." Sally put her things away in her black medical bag. "You know where to reach me if you change your mind Quatre, please consider it." Quietly, she strode out of the room leaving the fragile boy with a number of thoughts.  
  
Heero looked down at his feet, deep in thought. He had been sitting outside Trowa and Quatre's room during Sally's visit, listening to every word. When the doctor emerged she was more than surprised to see him there.  
  
"You shouldn't listen in like that, they have a right to privacy."  
  
"And I have a right to know what's going on," Heero replied, fixing his eyes intently on Sally's. "I need to know, is there really a place that you can take Trowa to?"  
  
"It's possible."  
  
"Let me walk you to the door."  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  
"You two were outside for an awful long time," Duo yawned, stretching out on the bed, "what were you talking about?" His violet eyes glanced over to the bathroom where Heero was washing his face in the sink.  
  
"Duo, you know I can't hear you when the waters running, wait till I get to bed."  
  
"I just want to know what you and Sally were talking about, was it about my nose?"  
  
"No," Heero flicked off the bathroom light, leaving the bedroom completely dark, "your nose is fine, why the hell would we talk about your nose?"  
  
"Aren't you amazed at how well it recovered?" Duo laughed, pointing proudly at it. "You know, if you're going to be an idiot about the whole thing-"  
  
"All right, all right, so tell me already. What were you and Sally talking about?" Heero was silent as he climbed into bed. He took his time making sure he was comfortable before turning to his partner.  
  
"We talked about Trowa of course."  
  
"What about him?" Duo asked worriedly.  
  
"He's still not talking, not moving, not doing anything on his own. He barely eats and what he does eat hardly counts as food. He looks awful. Quatre has no idea how to take care of him.."  
  
"But Quatre is doing the best he can. He's stopped doing everything to help Trowa get better."  
  
"That's another problem," Heero said quietly, "Wufei and I just received out latest mission."  
  
"What does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"This mission requires all of us to go along, and Quatre's in no shape for that, and for that matter his Gundam isn't ready for that. It's only been a little more than two weeks since he last used it, but it still needs maintenance. On top of all that, he's not going to leave Trowa's side, not for anything." The both were silent for a long time. The darkness melted away as their eyes adjusted, and soon, each was able to see the other more clearly in the evening darkness.  
  
"So, I still don't know what you and Sally talked about." Duo said, his words cut into the silence and darkness of the room so harshly it almost startled Heero.  
  
"I had been listening in on the conversation she was having with Quatre and- "  
  
"Heero!"  
  
"Duo, please, let me finish. You can nag me about it later. Anyway, I was listening to what she was saying and she had a really good idea about what we can do about Trowa. She mentioned finding a descript psychiatric hospital where he can be treated and-"  
  
"Oh, Heero no!" Duo shouted, "You can't be serious?"  
  
"Listen," Heero placed his hand on Duo's, "We need to do what's best for the group. Quatre is slowing down, he's eventually going to collapse, and Trowa is just a burden these days."  
  
"Just a burden?" Duo's voice got louder, "Heero, he's our friend. Don't you remember when he took care of you for a month? Back when we all first met? He could have just left you for dead or dumped you in some hospital, God knows what, but he didn't! You owe him better!"  
  
"You think I haven't thought of that?" Heero said angrily, "I know I do, but I think he'd understand, we need to do what's best for all of us. In the end, I have a feeling this is going to bite us in the ass."  
  
"How, explain to me how helping Trowa would be bad?"  
  
"What if we needed to evacuate for an emergency? What if there was a battle? What if we all died on a mission?"  
  
"Well," Duo interrupted, "Quatre is probably not going to going on any other missions."  
  
"There," Heero said, "another good reason. We're losing two soldiers now."  
  
"But if you send Trowa away, it'd kill Quatre, he wouldn't be able to handle it, he'd be so depressed. He loves Trowa, you know." Duo was paused for a moment, and then "What if it was me?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"What if it was me who had been raped and was suffering so much? Would you send me away? Just send me off to some mystery location and never see me again?"  
  
"Duo, don't do this.."  
  
"You would, wouldn't you!"  
  
"If it was in the best interest of-" Heero began.  
  
"Oh my God, you fucker!" Duo pushed Heero out of the bed, "You would just lock me away because I was a burden?" Heero got up quietly from the ground and collected his blanket and pillow from the bed.  
  
"I don't want to have this conversation anymore," he said coldly, "there was no point in even trying to talk to you. I've made up my mind and that's that. I'm going downstairs to sleep."  
  
"Good, I wouldn't fucking share this bed with you if you paid me! For all I care, you can sleep down there from now on!" Heero didn't reply, he quietly walked out the door, and then slammed the door behind him.  
  
Duo fell onto his pillow in anger. It was coursing through his veins, consuming him, his anger with Heero. But soon he began to soften, and the anger turned to sadness. Duo cried softly, inaudibly to himself, tiny little tear drops dappled his white linen pillow.  
  
Heero made himself somewhat comfortable on the couch. It had been a while since he had slept alone, and he soon found that he longed for Duo's closeness, but of course he would have never admitted that to anyone, not even himself.  
  
At the same time, Quatre was gently preparing Trowa for a bath. It had been two days since he'd changed Trowa's pajamas, so once they were removed he threw them in the hamper and set out a new clean pair.  
  
Quatre noted how much better Trowa's wounds were looking. Most of the cuts had healed without scaring, and there were almost no signs of bruising. But that was the only progress he was making. The stitches were now gone, but they had most definitely left their mark behind. It still looked as though he had been badly cut up, but at least he wasn't bleeding. Quatre felt as though he could never handle the sight of blood again.  
  
Outside of the night they had returned home, Quatre never had the strength to lift Trowa into the bathroom and then the tub. On top of that, he wasn't supposed to get the stitches wet so he usually cleaned Trowa by giving him a thorough sponge bath. But now that they were gone that wasn't a problem.  
  
The hot, steaming water quickly filled into the tub. Heero perked his head up at the noise, but didn't give it too much thought. He didn't want to imagine poor Quatre tirelessly fretting over and caring for Trowa. He knew if he gave the matter any thought it would be harder and harder to break the news of his decision to Quatre, and he knew he couldn't be soft about the whole thing. It was his job to be the strong leader of the group, to make decisions and to have faith that they were the best for everyone. He couldn't let emotion come into play.  
  
It took the feeble Quatre a few minutes but he was finally able to bring Trowa to the tub. Trowa clenched his teeth as his body lowered into the hot water, the skin where his stitches had been was still tender.  
  
"Just relax," Quatre cooed, "this will feel nice. I'm going to give you a proper bath, all right?" Naturally, Trowa made no response, but Quatre was getting used to that. He picked up a wash cloth and soap and gently began to bathe Trowa.  
  
"Feels good, huh?" Quatre asked, noticing that Trowa was indeed enjoying the bath. His eyes were closed and it almost appeared that there was a slight smile on his face. Quatre smiled too. For some reason then, he felt at peace, his problems seemed to evaporate and his worries became non existent. Everything felt for a moment like it was going to be okay.  
  
"Don't worry Trowa," Quatre said softly, "I'm not going to send you away. I love you too much. I promise, I'll always be here, no matter what, to care for you." Trowa made a soft noise that Quatre considered a yes. Then, every so gently, he leaned down and gave Trowa a kiss on his forehead. "I promise," he repeated, "I'll always be here."  
  
Quatre put Trowa in his clean pajamas and tucked him back into his bed, which had been made up with clean sheets. It was a lot of work but worth it in the end. Trowa immediately fell asleep, leaving the blonde with a large amount of laundry to do. Quatre also considered maybe having a bite to eat as well, he had lost an awful lot of weight.  
  
Heero heard the bedroom door open. Looking up from the couch, he saw Quatre walking across the hall to the laundry room with a basket in his arms, a carefree look on his face.  
  
"It's now or never," Heero whispered to himself. He had to eventually tell Quatre what was going to happen, and the sooner the better. Heero got up from his make shift bed on the couch and made his way down the hall.  
  
"What are you doing up?" Quatre asked, looking up from his load of laundry.  
  
"I came to talk to you," Heero responded, "it's important."  
  
Oh snap, ya'll. What's going to happen next? Is Heero going to go through with it, how will Quatre respond, will the relationship between Heero and duo ever be the same, will Trowa ever recover, where the hell is Wufei? I don't know, just wait till me next update.  
  
Most of the nights were restless, and the days were filled with the repetitious task of caring for Trowa. Quatre never found time to sleep, shower, or even eat. He lost ten pounds. Duo and Wufei expressed their concern to both Quatre and Heero, but neither one seemed to listen. Quatre seemed convinced that Trowa would eventually get better, and Heero didn't care unless it conflicted with any of their duties. 


	8. Tears Can't Bring Him Back To Me Now

"Must be important if you couldn't sleep," Quatre laughed softly. Heero of course didn't even smile.  
  
"I talked to Sally."  
  
"Oh?" Quatre suddenly felt a chill, "something wrong?"  
  
"You tell me," Heero took a step closer to Quatre, "how is Trowa doing?"  
  
"H-he's doing much better.." the blonde felt himself tripping over his own words, he didn't like where the conversation was going.  
  
"Funny, cause that's not what I heard," Heero took another step, "Quatre, do you honestly think he's going to get any better just lying in that bed everyday?" A great silence preceded the comment. Quatre closed the laundry room door and turned on the light bulb swinging above their heads. It's dim light filled the space and cast strange shadows on the boys faces.  
  
"Straight forward," Quatre said, "what did you talk about and what do you want? No head games or forced conversation." Heero was a bit surprised at the meek pilot's boldness, but he dared not to show it in his face.  
  
"She knows a place where-"  
  
"I know she does," Quatre interrupted, "let me save you the trouble. She told me all about it, and Trowa isn't going. Good night." Quatre promptly turned around continued with the laundry.  
  
"Look," Heero raised his voice, "in this group I am the leader-"  
  
"Self proclaimed leader-"  
  
"Doesn't matter, I make all the damn decision around here and I've made a decision. I told Sally to come back here after her next mission and to take Trowa with her. Good night!"  
  
"You can't do this!" Quatre screamed, "what gives you the right to control someone's life like this?"  
  
"It's risky keeping him here, for him and for us, we have to do what's right!"  
  
"We can't keep sacrificing him! On that ship, I watched him get torn apart, I watched him give up everything to protect us, I'm not going to let him suffer again!" Hot tears were rolling down Quatre's face, which was burning red in anger. Heero on the other hand, though he was yelling, was very composed.  
  
"He knew it was the right thing to do then, and I'm sure he knows it's the right thing to do now."  
  
"Have you seen him lately?" Quatre asked, "I don't think you've even looked at him since we've gotten back. Go, go into our room and tell me that's a person you want to abandon."  
  
"We're not abandoning him-"  
  
"He's out friend! My God Heero, you've lived with him, eaten with him, fought with him slept beside him and you're this ready just to abandon him?"  
  
"I said we're not abandoning him, he'll be in a hospital-"  
  
"Yeah, probably in like Siberia or some third world country for all we know!"  
  
"I swear Quatre, if you keep interrupting me-"  
  
"But God forbid you actually care. He's fine here and he's going to stay here!" Quatre threw open the door of the laundry room in an effort to leave, but Heero grabbed onto his arm and twisted him back.  
  
"What's wrong with you?" Heero growled, "why do you feel such a need to disobey me?"  
  
"Disobey?" Quatre almost laughed, "am I a child or something? If I had never disobeyed you, Trowa would be dead! And if I don't disobey you now, he will die! Now let go of me!" Quatre pulled his arm free and darted out of the laundry room. Heero followed and quickly caught up, this time grabbing Quatre by both arms and pulling him close so that they were face to face.  
  
"He's going Quatre, and there's nothing you can do about it. Do you understand me?"  
  
"Fuck off, Heero." Quatre wasn't too sure what happened next. Everything went black and the side of his face was burning. All he knew was that he was on the ground and that he was in great pain.  
  
"What the hell is going on!" Came Wufei's distant voice. Quatre felt arms pull him up from the ground. Dazed, he opened his eyes and saw the blurry outline of Wufei.  
  
"My-my glasses?" Quatre asked, touching his face.  
  
"Here," Wufei slipped them back on, "now, what are you two fighting about? I hear screaming, and when I come out to see what it is I find Heero pummeling you."  
  
"I hit him once!" Heero tried to defend himself.  
  
"That's enough you fucking pig!" It was Duo, sitting on top of the stairs. "I heard the arguing too, and I have a pretty good idea what it was about."  
  
"Well, since everyone knows what's going on here, would anyone like to fill me in?" Wufei asked, crossing his arms.  
  
"Ask him," Quatre said, pointing to Heero. Wufei shifted his dark eyes.  
  
"Well, what is it Heero?"  
  
"We'll talk about this in the morning," Heero replied, "everyone go back to bed."  
  
"Let's go back to your room," Wufei said quietly to Quatre, "I'll clean you up in the bathroom and we can talk about it there." Quatre nodded.  
  
"I'm coming too," Duo bounded down the stairs. Heero just sighed and climbed back onto the couch.  
  
"Ow!" Quatre winced at the pain. Wufei drew back the warm washrag and waited for the blonde's okay to continue.  
  
"I can't believe he did that to you," Duo said angrily, "I know he can be an ass at times, but, man, there's no excuse for this!" Quatre looked at himself in the mirror. He was already developing a black eye and there was blood trickling from a cut of the side of his head.  
  
"He said he hit me once, I don't know if I believe that."  
  
"I know what I saw," Wufei said grimly, "I almost thought he was trying to kill you."  
  
"He was so angry with me," Quatre sighed, "I was just trying to do what I thought was right. Ow!"  
  
"Sending Trowa away isn't right, I can tell you that much," Wufei said, dabbing up more blood, "I don't know what's come over him."  
  
"Tell me about it," Duo added, "I've gotten on his nerves more than once in the past and he's never hit me.."  
  
"Hush up for a sec," the three boys were quiet as they heard Trowa groan in his sleep from the bedroom. "Duo, close the door, I don't want us to wake him up."  
  
"You know," Wufei said picking up some hydrogen peroxide, "you could just go with him. Find an apartment somewhere close by and visit him. That would be so bad would it?"  
  
"Heero wouldn't allow that," Duo grumbled, "he's pissed as it is that you," looking at Quatre, "spend all your time with Trowa."  
  
"Why should he even care," Quatre said to himself darkly. Duo continued.  
  
"Well, to make things worse he said that you," looking at Wufei, "and him got the latest mission, and says all of us have to go along."  
  
"So that's what that was about.." Wufei said softly.  
  
"What was what about? Ouch! Fei, be careful!"  
  
"Sorry!" Wufei drew the peroxide back, "Sorry about that. Yeah, we did get a mission, but I didn't hear too much about it. Heero kept most of the information to himself and got pretty pissed when I tried to ask him anything about it. I think he knew what it all meant.."  
  
"I sometimes wonder about Heero," said Quatre, "it's seems at times that he does actually care about Trowa, then at other times...it's like he can't make up his mind."  
  
"I'm sure he does care," Wufei cooed, "it's just that, you know Heero isn't a very emotional person."  
  
"Amen to that!" Duo grunted.  
  
"He probably thinks that emotions will make him weak and therefore not a good leader, which is what he wants to be. This is all just very, very trying on him."  
  
"Wufei," Quatre said, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder, "it's nice of you to stand up for him, but this experience has been very trying on all of us."  
  
"Especially you Quatre."  
  
"I suppose so. That's why I think it's best that we both go, just get out of here and out of his and everyone's way."  
  
"Quatre!" Duo sat up in shock, "what are you saying? You're not going to let him take Trowa away are you?"  
  
"No, oh no! I couldn't do that. I meant, leave and go somewhere safe. I was thinking about contacting Trowa's sister. She's very sweet and I'm sure she'll let us stay. Only problem is she doesn't know about what happened, and I'd hate to break the news to her. I wouldn't even know where to begin."  
  
"When are you planning to do this?" Wufei asked.  
  
"As soon as I can, I'm not sure when Sally's coming back." The conversation soon died after that. After Wufei finished cleaning up Quatre's wound they all said good night and went to bed in their respective rooms. Quatre slept very heavily. It had been a long night, and though his mind was racked with worry, he could not fight his drooping eyelids.  
  
Heero was much smaller than Trowa, yet somehow found the strength to life him from his bed and carry him out to the dewy grass yard just outside his and Quatre's room. It was just before sun break in the very early morning. Heero sat down then rested his friend against his chest, then draped the both of them in a warm blanket. The two naturally sat in silence, awake and aware of the other. Trowa made no noise as he sat and watched the sun rise, but eventually Heero felt the need for discussion.  
  
"You're very noble," he began, "what you did back on that ship, the way you sacrificed yourself, you deserve what any true hero deserves. We're all alive because you were willing to give you life. That's what makes this all so hard." Heero stopped for a moment to calm himself and the tears he felt in his eyes.  
  
"You know you're my friend. You're one of my greatest friends and one of the greatest soldiers I have ever fought with. I will admit it pains me to have to do this, but you know I don't have much choice. Quatre is falling apart at the seams; he doesn't eat or sleep anymore. We have this mission coming up that we're all needed to go on, and I can't leave you alone, what if we all died? What if the house is attacked while we're gone? It's not just a risk to us, Trowa, I want to protect you too." Heero struggled for a moment to find more words but nothing came. So he watched the sunrise. The reds and pinks bled into the violet night sky. The stars faded, save for the shimmering Venus above the horizon. The sun burst triumphantly, flaming orange that burned and melted away the night. It was amazing. 


	9. Like A Swan That's Here And Gone

Quatre wiped the rolling sweat from his forehead as he turned his azure eyes to the sky. It was such a beautiful morning, he could barely hold back the smile spreading across his face. It felt almost as if that morning was made for him.  
  
"You look like you could use this," came a soft voice from behind him. Quatre turned, and shading his eyes he saw Trowa approach him with a pitcher of ice water and a glass. "You're flushed, maybe you ought to come inside."  
  
"Just pour me a glass of that and I'll be all right." Quatre laughed as Trowa gingerly poured the sparkling water for the beautiful blonde.  
  
"I've just never seen your cheeks so red," Trowa sighed, handing over the glass.  
  
"Well you forget, I also have very fair skin," Quatre took a sip. Trowa watched him for a moment, then slowly, lifted his slender finger to stroke the blonde's rosy cheeks. Quatre knew he was blushing then, but of course no one would have ever known.  
  
"These roses," Trowa said, picking one from it's stem, "how do you grow them in the desert like this?" Qutare didn't answer right away. His eyes were focused on Trowa's hands, how his long fingers so delicately twirled the rose about. They were remarkable.  
  
"Well," he said finally, "I will admit it's not easy."  
  
"I can't imagine that it is."  
  
"I think that the secret is simply and truly just time. Time and patience, I suppose. Roses are themselves a fickle thing. If not in the right environment they won't open and bloom. On top of that, having to work in such a hateful environment takes all I have just to get them to sprout out of the ground!" Quatre took another sip of his glass, just thinking about the heat made him parched.  
  
"Why do you do it then, if it's so much work. Why focus on such a fickle flower, why even bother gardening?"  
  
"Are you serious?" Quatre asked with a smile. Trowa nodded.  
  
"There's nothing more satisfying in the world that watching a tiny bud that you raised yourself open up, open up to the entire world for the first time. To see it's colors bloom in the sunlight. Trowa, I can't even begin to tell you."  
  
"Why not," the brunette asked, handing his rose to Quatre, "I could listen to you talk forever. Please, tell me about your roses."  
  
~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~  
  
Quatre suddenly felt himself jerked out of his dream. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked around his room to find was had disturbed his perfect slumber. What he found sent him down the hall screaming.  
  
"He's gone!" Quatre couldn't even hear himself, "Trowa's gone!"  
  
"Quatre, calm down," Wufei said coming out of the kitchen.  
  
"Wufei, Trowa's gone! He's gone, he wasn't in his bed when I woke up..and.." Qutare felt legs began to shake and soon he wasn't even able to stand on his own. Wufei was the only thing keeping him form falling to his knees.  
  
"Quatre, what are you talking about? What do you mean Trowa is gone?"  
  
"He's not in his bed..." Quatre's voice quivered.  
  
"Here," Wufei set Quatre down on the couch, "I'll go look myself, you stay right here."  
  
"What's going on down here?" Duo came down stairs, pulling an old shirt over his head.  
  
"Duo, have you seen Heero?" Wufei called from the bedroom.  
  
"No, he slept on the couch last night remember?"  
  
"Oh God," Quatre mumbled.  
  
"What is going on here?" Duo asked again more furiously. Wufei came back from the bedroom, a confused look on his face.  
  
"Oh shit," he said quietly, "he couldn't have. I thought maybe because you weren't wearing you glasses you might have been mistaken, but.."  
  
"He isn't there?" Duo asked anxiously.  
  
"This isn't happening," Quatre stood up, "I thought I had more time, I thought Sally was leaving.."  
  
"He must have caught her before she left," Wufei came over and grabbed the blonde by the shoulders, "we need to stay calm and come up with a plan."  
  
"Well, do you know where she was going to next?" Duo was obviously frantic, the look in his eyes said it all but he tried to hide the nervousness in his voice.  
  
"I assume she's returning to the southeast, maybe back to Cambodia."  
  
"But Cambodia is huge!" Duo whined, "and what about the other countries down there? She could be as far south as, I don't know, Singapore!"  
  
"Be rational, she would probably go somewhere that actually had a hospital that is somewhat decent. I've seen some of the places in the southeast and believe me there's nothing pretty about them."  
  
"Wufei," Quatre sighed, looking up into the Chinese boy's dark eyes, "I'm really worried, I'm afraid. I don't know where he is," Quatre had the beginnings of tears in his eyes, "I don't know where to find him. What if he needs me? Why would he do this!"  
  
"Quatre, stay calm," Wufei cooed.  
  
"How can I!" Quatre screamed. "Heero has taken Trowa away and none of us know where to! Trowa may need me, and I can't be there!"  
  
"We'll find him, I promise," Duo came up from behind Quatre and gave him and gave him a hug. "For both your sakes."  
  
~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~  
  
Heero didn't remember much Chinese. It had been a few years since his last lesson and a few months since he had dusted off his skills with Wufei. None the less, he was still able to travel through China and Mongolia with little problems.  
  
He had been on three flights since that morning. Normally that wasn't a problem, but having to tow Trowa along with him wasn't easy. Heero picked up a wheelchair at the first airport, then simply never bothered to return it. He felt little guilt pushing Trowa around, knowing how awkward it would be to have to carry him over his shoulder.  
  
By the days end the two found themselves in a tiny inn on the border of Mongolia and Russia. The next morning they'd be leaving at 5 A.M. to reach a town called Izolda, located in the heart of Russia. Heero carefully looked over the information Sally had given him. Everything he needed to do was carefully detailed on the back of an old grocery list.  
  
"I hope the flight wasn't too much for you," Heero said, placing her few bits of baggage on the bed. Of course there was no response from the wheelchair parked in the corner of the room.  
  
"I know you hate me right now," Heero said quietly, "I know the other probably want to see me dead. This is all for the best though Trowa," Heero turned to face his friend, "when this is all over you'll.." but Heero never finished his thought. The expression on his friends face cut him somewhere deep inside.  
  
Trowa simply looked sad. His eyes were drooping and they'd lost their shimmer, he their color was almost a faded gray. His lips were thin and his skin had lost all humanly color. Yet under all that sadness Heero could sense some anger, some resentment burning deep inside and the stoic leader knew it was all directed at him.  
  
Heero put Trowa to bed soon after that and he didn't speak again until the morning.  
  
~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~  
  
"This is unbelieveable, it's like she just dropped off the face of the earth," Wufei looked up from his laptop to see Duo, still clad in his pajamas, with his arm around Quatre. "Sorry Quatre," he said softly, "right now it doesn't look like we have a lot of hope."  
  
"You can't tell me that you've been looking all morning and haven't found a trace of that woman," Duo growled, "it's not like she could have gotten far. You think maybe she's disguised her location so she can help Heero move Trowa?"  
  
"No," Quatre butted in, "Sally wouldn't do that. It wouldn't be like her."  
  
"I agree," Wufei sighed, rubbing his eyes, "I know Sally is the one who suggested the whole thing, but I know she also gave Quatre time to decide what he wanted to do."  
  
"And she wouldn't break that promise to me," Quatre added.  
  
"Well, then my guess is when Heero spoke to her last night he got the name of the place she wanted to take him to and figured he just do the job himself." Duo crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
"Wouldn't surprise me in the least," Quatre said grimly, "but we still need to find Sally so we can learn the name of that place. I'm going to start packing," the blonde got up hastily from the couch.  
  
"All ready?" Wufei asked, "we haven't even found her!"  
  
"When we find out where this place is I don't want to waste a second trying to get to him." Quatre dashed to his bedroom and closed the door behind him.  
  
"I thought after the way he freaked out this morning he'd be a wreck all day," Duo said, getting up from the couch, "coffee, Fei?"  
  
"Sure. Well, remember back before you two went on that half ass mission of yours? You knew he was worried sick over Trowa, but he never once showed it. He's strong, much stronger than what he lets on."  
  
"I've noticed."  
  
"I'm sure right now, yeah, he is scared and worried and hurt but he can't let that interfere. His blind passion and love have taken over all of him and....Duo, is that decaf?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Who makes decaf in the morning?"  
  
"I usually don't need the caffine, in case you haven't noticed."  
  
~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~  
  
Heero felt as though he'd only slept a little more than a minute when the phone beside his bed rang furiously.  
  
"Wake up call Mr. Yukito," Heero felt dazed as the woman with the Russian accent called him by his false name, "four in the morning, just like you said."  
  
"Thank you," Heero managed to mumble back before he hung up the phone. The room was dark and had an unusual smell to it. The cold northern air burned its way through the layers of thermal tops Heero was wearing and sent chills up and down his spine. Trowa slept soundlessly in his little corner of darkness. Heero felt somewhat saddened as he wandered over to his companion's bed. The cold morning was a fate he would wish upon no one and it was a world he didn't want to wake Trowa up to. But most of all, once Trowa opened his green eyes, his fate would be sealed, and he would be on his way to the center of Russia with no word in edgewise.  
  
The rest of the trip would be in a car on an unpaved road through snowy nothingness. Heero rented a car from a man on the outskirts of the tiny town where they had been staying. The man talked in a broken English, and knew no Japanese. It took Heero almost 20 minutes to figure out what the man was trying to rent to him.  
  
"Schno scar," the man pointed to a tiny, red two seater. "Dive to schno, no schtuck. Vere u goving?"  
  
"Where are we going?" Heero asked.  
  
"Ya, vere? How laun do I vent?"  
  
"We're going to Izolda? Familiar with it?"  
  
"Ya, ya Izolda! Nah to fa, I vent," the man held up six fingers.  
  
"Six hours then?"  
  
"Ya."  
  
There was white everywhere. The snow on the ground, the icy mountain peaks, even the dreary overcast sky. All white, with a blood red dot speeding through it all. Trowa slept the entire trip, completely bundled in every pair of clothing Heero could live without.  
  
Their first sign of the town was a broken sign that read completely in Russian. Heero knew by Sally's note that it was the place.  
  
To say Izolda was a town was the say The Salt Lake was an ocean. The only signs of life was tiny little homes lined up nicely upon the street. Each was decorated in obligatory décor: Snow shoes on the sides of the house, animal carcasses hanging from the roofs, discarded fishing and hunting equipment left unattended as dark haired children played in the snow. Girls with braids and scarves tied about their heads and boys wearing obvious hand-me-down coats and fur caps with flaps over the ears.  
  
They were all amazed at the "schno scar." Heero was aware that there were still places in the modern world where technology was not an everyday occurrence. He wondered if the children would shit their pants if he took them to Tokyo.  
  
At the edge of the backwater mess was a tall building speckled with mirrored black windows. Heero assumed, and hoped, that is was the hospital he was looking for. There were no marked parking spaces, especially on top of the snow, so Heero just parked the car as close as he could to the front. Mostly because the wheelchair was almost impossible to push in the snow.  
  
The inside of the hospital was far from hopeful. The white walls and floor were tinted beige. None of the equipment or furniture had been updated in at least 20 yrs. The scent in the air hung heavily, cold ice mixed with something that made Heero somewhat nauseous. For a moment, he wanted to bolt out the door with Trowa in hand and never look back. A moment, a flash in the pan. But then he remembered why he was here, and with the self delusional thought that he was doing everyone good, Heero rolled Trowa up to the front desk.  
  
"How may I help you?" The nurse asked in near perfect English.  
  
"This morning, hopefully, you got a message from a Miss Sally Po regarding a new patient?"  
  
"Oh yes," the nurse smiled "just one moment please." She was sweet, almost popping out of her dreary backdrop like a rose on a desert plain...  
  
She returned only a second later with a piece of paper in hand and a very large woman behind her. Now this woman looked liked she belonged there. Tall, broad shouldered with dark brooding eyes and a fixed frown on her face.  
  
"This is our Head Nurse, Mrs. Mara Varushka, she'll take care of you now." The beautiful young nurse handed Mara the form in her hand, then bounded away.  
  
Mara quickly scanned it, then looked at her new patient with venom.  
  
"Yesh," her English was not so good, "I know dish well. Miss Sally Po call me a while ago 'bout dish boy."  
  
"So, are you going to admit him or what?" Heero asked, just wanting to get away.  
  
"Yesh, we talk long 'bout it. I take him to special wing of hosh-pill. You no worry 'bout him anymore." She grabbed the handlebars of Trowa's wheelchair. And then it came again, that need to detach himself from everything that was happening. Heero wanted to reach out and push her hands away, take Trowa and run. Take his hand and lift him up and run away together. Go back to the house, go back to the way life used to be.  
  
"Sir?" Mara's voice echoed in Heero's ear. "Sir, ish some-ting wrong?" Heero looked down at his hand and saw that it was tightly grasping Mara's wrist.  
  
"No," Heero whispered, slowly unwrapping his fingers. He couldn't let himself do this, he couldn't become emotionally attached. But Trowa was his friend, they'd been through so much together. But they were both soldiers, and this is what a soldier would do...  
  
"You no worry, really," Mara said flatly, "he in good hands. You go now, go back home."  
  
"Thank you," Heero said quietly. So, that was it. It was all over now, things could try and get back to normal. This was the right thing to do, this was the right thing to do, this was the right thing to do...  
  
He didn't have the balls to look Trowa in the eye. Heero could kill anyone and their mother with his bare hands if he had to, but he couldn't look his own fellow soldier in the eye. He could look his own friend in the eye.  
  
T e sound of a wheelchair rolling down the halls echoed vibrantly as he turned for the front door. Heero got to go home now.  
  
Trowa didn't.  
  
The drive from Izolda back to the hotel felt as though it lasted for days. Silence coupled with the freezing barren landscape.  
  
The hotel was dark. Heero didn't bother to turn on any lights as he packed the last of his things. His flight left that night, he'd be home just before the sunrise. The others would most likely be asleep.  
  
Shit.  
  
Now he had to face those three. He knew what he had done and so did they. And he knew how they were all going to react.  
  
Wufei probably wasn't going to say anything, not right off the bat anyway. Maybe after a few days he'd take Heero aside or make a little comment while they were working about how he felt about the whole thing. But at most it would be very nonchalant and casual.  
  
Duo was going to raise hell. He was going to rant and rave like a madman and there was no way to avoid it.  
  
Quatre though, he was a wild card. He could go either way. The blonde was often known for voicing his opinion on most ideas that came across the table, but sometimes he opted to stay silent, watching and waiting for the right time to take action.  
  
Whatever happened, Heero knew his homecoming was not going to be a welcome one. 


	10. A Scene Badly Written

Quatre was tired. His eyes ached and his mind was scattered, but his fear for Trowa's safety could not be quelled long enough to allow him to sleep. Even if Duo and Fei's resting forms were laid out so temptingly before him. All day he waited on the edge of his seat, waiting for any sort of word, any sort of sign, waiting to find out where his friend had been taken away to. The night was so long, each moment without a word felt like an eternity weighted upon his shoulders. And now it was near morning, and with nothing to go on he felt his world slowly crumble before him. Trowa was gone, and there was no way to find him, unless.....  
  
The sound of a key unlatching the front door filled the silent house. Quatre fixed his gaze on the door and soon found himself eye to eye with a haggard looking Heero. For a moment, neither spoke, not knowing what to say and fearing the other's reaction. But in the end Quatre simply couldn't wait any longer, and being too tired to argue simply walked up to Heero, looked him straight in the eye and made his plea.  
  
"Please," Quatre whispered, "just tell me where he is. Don't do this to him, to me. Just let me go get him and bring him back where he belongs. Please." Heero looked down at the feeble boy before him. He observed his black eye, the one he had so graciously given him. Only days ago had Quatre been so vivacious, so forceful and bold with his words. And now, he was like a kitten mewling for a bowl of milk.  
  
"Go get some sleep," was Heero's careless retort as he pushed himself past Quatre. Quatre only stood there in shock, mouth open and agape.  
  
"No," he whispered to himself, "it's not ending like this..." but Heero couldn't hear him, he was quickly making his way upstairs before any of the others woke up.  
  
"Hey Quatre," came Duo's groggy voice, "what are you doing up, it's like four in the morning and.." he caught a glimpse of Heero out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"So the snake has decided to slither back into our presence," he said coldly. Heero stopped in the middle of the staircase and turned to face him. This was going to happen sooner or later, why not just deal with it now.  
  
"And by the way," Duo added, "if you're going upstairs to sleep in the bed that I kicked you out of, please be sure to burn the sheets in the morning, okay?"  
  
"I can't believe you," Heero grumbled, "I'm only doing what's right for this group, why can't any of you understand that. You know what we do, you know who we are."  
  
"I know who you are," Duo got to his feet, "A leader who beats his friends when they don't listen to him, a leader who abandons his soldiers when they're too weak to fight, a leader who goes behind the backs of his crew while they sleep. Yeah, I know who you are, fucking citizen of the year!"  
  
"What is going on?" Wufei came out of his slumber.  
  
"Guess who came back," Duo replied with venom in his voice, never taking his eyes off of Heero. Wufei followed the evil glare to the staircase.  
  
"Welcome back," he said quietly, getting up from his spot.  
  
"Welcome back?" Duo screamed, "What the fuck are you welcoming him back for? This snake just kidnapped Trowa and dropped him the middle of God- knows-where and you're welcoming him back?"  
  
"Duo, yelling and swearing isn't going to help."  
  
"Oh fuck you Fei," Duo shoved the Chinese boy in the shoulder, "I bet you're in on this too."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yeah, you two are so much alike, I bet you're glad to have Trowa gone. I bet you knew where Sally was the entire time you just didn't want to tell us."  
  
"You're acting like a crazy man," Wufei yelled back, unable to take Duo's nonsense anymore, "what is wrong with you. I want Trowa back as much as you do, okay. Don't you try and compare me to him," Wufei pointed to Heero at the top of the stairs. The room fell silent, Wufei looking at his stray finger in awe.  
  
"Heero," he began, "you know I-"  
  
"So I'm really that awful to all of you!" Heero fumed. "I'm just some jerk off to you guys, the ass hole leader who does stuff like this just to piss you all off."  
  
"On the nose, jerk off." Duo said with a smirk.  
  
"You really think that? You think I'd go these sort of lengths just to get you guys upset at me, cause you know that's what I want."  
  
"Apparently, why else would you do it?" Duo was now standing at the foot of the stairs, Heero just a few steps above him. Both were eyeing daggers at each other.  
  
"I did it to help this crew, I did it to help Trowa!"  
  
"You did it to one up us, to show us who's boss, that's all you really want in life. To be number one, top dog and you don't care who you trash to get there!"  
  
"And all you want to do is pick a fight! You know I was right, why can't we all just get over it and get back to normal?"  
  
"Back to normal?" Duo snorted, "Are you fucking mad? How can things get back to normal if we have to worry about you dragging one of us out of here in the middle of the night on a whim like you did Trowa? For all we know you just dug a hole on the ground and piled some dirt on top of him!"  
  
"Now you're just being ridiculous!"  
  
Wufei rolled his eyes, unable to listen to the argument any longer. Emotions were running high, and he really couldn't blame Duo for how he felt, but his reaction went way beyond the bounds of appropriateness.  
  
Suddenly, Wufei felt a draft and glancing towards the front door saw a very fatigued Quatre looking grimly at the sun peaking over the horizon.  
  
"Trowa," his lips parted in a whisper, "where are you?"  
  
"Quatre, you okay?" Wufei asked, gaining the attention of the other two pilots who quickly stopped bickering.  
  
"Trowa, where are you?" He asked again taking a step out into the morning.  
  
"Hey," Duo bounded towards the door, "where are you going?"  
  
"Let him go," Heero said.  
  
"I am not taking orders from you," Duo growled.  
  
"See, now you're doing the opposite of what I see fit just because you want to be a rebel. I could tell you to do something completely rational and logical and you'd do the opposite just to be a pain, which by the way you're very good at being."  
  
"This is so like you. You're always right, and the only reason anyone would go against your will would be either because they're stupid or they just want to rebel. Nobody other than you can actually be right about anything!"  
  
"You know what Duo?"  
  
"No, what Heero?"  
  
"Hey, you know what you two?" Wufei butted in. Both Duo and Heero stopped and gave the Chinese boy their full attention. "You need to cut this crap out. Quatre just walked out the door and neither one of you really care."  
  
"Let him be alone," Heero sighed, "he needs to sort out his emotions and stuff."  
  
"Emotions and stuff. Very nice Heero, very sentimental." Duo crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
"Fine, just go to bed," Wufei waved his hand as if he were dismissing a servant, "Duo and I will look for him."  
  
"Oh no," Duo whined, "he is not sleeping in that bed. That's my bed now, he has to sleep on the couch."  
  
"Duo, what's more important: Quatre or a bed?" Wufei asked slipping on an overcoat. Duo's hateful expression waned, his eyebrows relaxed and his taunting smirk became a caring and knowledgeable smile.  
  
"You're right," he said, "let's go find that little blondie."  
  
Quatre's lungs ached as they filled with the cold morning air. Every step he took he staggered on, trying to keep his balance as he fought through his fatigue. His body just wanted to collapse, the weight of all the world was finally becoming too much. Everything he had done was in vain, the time he spent caring for Trowa, all the work, all the long nights without sleep, all the long days without food. What was the point of it all? To have his friend stolen from right under his nose and locked away? He had to find Trowa, but how? Where was he? Why was this all happening?  
  
"Trowa!" He screamed as loud as he could, wanting someone, anyone to answer him. He just needed to this all to end. He needed Trowa back, he needed his life back to normal.  
  
"Where are you? Trowa!" If he just screamed loud enough he could wake Trowa from his trance, and he'd come home.  
  
"Trowa, please!" Or maybe, this was all a dream, and all he had to do was wake himself up and he'd be home, in bed. He could roll over and shading his eyes from the morning and see Trowa in the bed beside him.  
  
"Where are you? Answer me!" What in the hell was wrong with him? This was reality, this was his life now. There was no waking up from this nightmare. Things could never go back to the way they were, never.  
  
The feeling of the dewy morning grass touched Quatre's face and hands, and he soon realized that his body had finally given out. Lying now on someone's grassy lawn, alone in the newborn sunlight, he knew there was no way to escape his drowsiness. Feeling his eyelids close he made no attempt to lift them. It was over now, all he could do was sleep. Sleep was the only answer now, reality was just way too fucked up to deal with.  
  
In the final moments before he drifted away, his ear picked up the distant whisper of two familiar voices calling his name.  
  
A grand white blur of midday light was all Quatre could see when he woke up next. Sitting up in his bed, he realized he was tightly tucked into his bed and in a clean pair of pajamas.  
  
"You may want to take it easy there," came Wufei's voice. Quatre felt his bed move under the weight of someone sitting down beside him.  
  
"What happened?" Quatre asked, trying his best to recollect the events of last night. Heero had come home, and, he was upset because Heero didn't have Trowa with him, and...and...  
  
"You're body finally gave out," came Wufei's grim voice, "you're going to need to rest for a few days, and you need to eat better. Well, actually, you need to just eat."  
  
"I feel so weird," Quatre put his hand to his face, then quickly pulled it back, wincing. His bruised eye was still quite tender.  
  
"Like I said, you just need some rest and some food. After all that running you were doing I'm not surprised you collapsed like you did." That's right, he had been running. He had been looking for Trowa, he fell on someone's lawn.  
  
"I couldn't find him," Quatre looked up at Wufei with despair.  
  
"These may help," Wufei handed over a pair of spectacles.  
  
"Thanks," Quatre slipped them on, "these things are really more of a hindrance than an aid."  
  
"It would help if you actually kept them on your face, they're more useful there." Wufei chuckled, amused by himself.  
  
Quatre blinked a few times, getting his eyes and mind adjusted to everything around him, including the empty bed beside the sliding glass door. It was like a great void swallowing up everything and spiting back up only hollow loneliness. A heavy, dark, inescapable loneliness. Quatre felt his head spin, and now resting it in his hands he realized he was crying.  
  
"When is it all going to end?" he said quietly, wiping away a few stray tears.  
  
"When is what going to end?" Wufei asked.  
  
"This, all this suffering. This pain, I can't do it anymore. Why won't it end?"  
  
"Because it can't." Silence pervaded, Wufei stood up and opened the sliding doors. "It can never end, Quatre. It's something that is part of our existence, something that keeps the perfect balance. You being a Gundam pilot should know that. People were in pain, so we sacrificed ourselves to the clockwork of life, gave up out happiness and freedom so that others may go about their lives carefree and happy. That's what Trowa did, he gave himself up, believing that he would die for us. He took the bullet so that we could continue to live. And that's how life will always be: people will suffer or someone will give their life to defend them."  
  
Quatre nodded in approval. "It's hard to admit though, that no matter what our efforts there will be pain in this world."  
  
"But we also live with the knowledge that though there are people who mean to spread malice, no matter what their efforts there will be times that they fail."  
  
"Well," Quatre sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "they won this time. I'm the one who failed."  
  
"I disagree," Wufei said, "right now it's more of a tug-o-war, either one can come out champion. I will admit the odds are stacked against you, but then again, they're stacked against you, Quatre Raberba Winner. And believe me, that counts for something. Against your big heart, blind passion and unbridled recklessness, misery doesn't stand a chance." Quatre smiled, trying to find the right words to answer Wufei's semi-backhanded compliment, but only quiet tears of gratitude seemed appropriate.  
  
"You'll get him back," Wufei added, "but before then, get some rest, relax. Wherever he is I'm sure he's safe and being cared for."  
  
"I'm sure he's wishing he was dead, too." Quatre said darkly.  
  
"What are you going to do when you find him?"  
  
"Call his sister, get in contact with her. I can't bring him back here, Heero would go ballistic. We'd need to be somewhere safe and quiet, far away from this place." Quatre looked up at Wufei, his blue eyes pleading. "You are still going to help me find Sally, right? I can't do it without you."  
  
"Glad to hear that," Wufei smiled, "I rarely get any credit around here for what I do. But that's beside the point, of course I'll help you. I hate the idea of going against our leader-"  
  
"Self proclaimed." Quatre rolled his eyes.  
  
"Self proclaimed, whatever. He's still the one who gives the orders around here. Over breakfast this morning he warned both me and Duo not to try and help find Trowa, just help you move on with your life. You should have seen Duo, the speech he made. He actually got up on the table and started barking, "The only way Quatre can move on with his life is if he has Trowa!" The two pilots laughed to themselves, Wufei at the memory and Quatre at the idea.  
  
"He's sweet," Quatre said, trying to stifle his laughter, "at least his heart is in the right place."  
  
"Heero's heart is in the right place too," Wufei said a little more seriously.  
  
"I know," Quatre replied sheepishly, "I don't want to be mad at him, but, he can be so thick headed. The way he has to always be right about everything. I don't know why I put up with it for so long, I should have done something."  
  
"Duo has been doing something ever since he met Heero. It's hard for us to understand him, and harder for us to crack his shell. But bit by bit, each day a layer comes down. It may be hard to detect sometimes, but it's happening. The final breakthrough though will have to come from within him, that's why you have to push this Quatre. I know that he knows this is wrong, and when he's finally able to admit it to us, well, he can be the person he's meant to be, not the soldier he was molded into."  
  
"That was quite eloquent," Quatre said.  
  
"You're not the only one around here who is allowed to be nice," Wufei headed toward the door. "I'll leave you alone now. Maybe later come back with some dinner, how does a bowl of fruit, some rice and milk sound?"  
  
"Sounds boring."  
  
"But healthy," Wufei chirped.  
  
~*+~*~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~  
  
After serving Quatre his very healthy, and very unwanted dinner, Wufei joined Heero in the living room hoping to be able to spend some time looking for Sally while pretending to work out the details of the newest mission.  
  
Heero of course was sitting alone, Duo made an effort to stay away from his former lover at all times. His pale eyes were quietly perusing his laptop, the blue glow of it's screen made him look eerie in the evening darkness.  
  
"So, have you heard anything lately?" Wufei asked, making himself comfortable on the floor beside his partner.  
  
"'Bout what?" Heero didn't even look up from his laptop.  
  
"About our latest mission, it's been a few days, I was wonder if you got any more information."  
  
"No," Heero spat out.  
  
"Well, when are we leaving? Quatre is going to need time to recover you know."  
  
"I know, don't worry about it."  
  
"But-" Wufei began.  
  
"But nothing! We have other things to do okay? Leave me alone about the damn mission!"  
  
And that confirmed it. All along Wufei had been hiding a secret fear, something that he couldn't share with any of the other pilots, something he didn't really want to contemplate himself.  
  
"It was all a lie," Wufei held his breath waiting for Heero's response.  
  
"What?" He finally looked up from his computer.  
  
"There was no mission. I can't believe it...." Wufei choked a bit, "you deceived us. You just wanted a reason to get him out of here"  
  
"You're beginning to sound like Duo," Heero tried to laugh it off, but it was clear he was worried.  
  
"Then when is it? Where are we going? What's the point if it? Who even sent it to us?"  
  
"Wufei," Heero sighed, "what was I supposed to do?"  
  
"Not lie," Wufei said quietly.  
  
"It's over with," Heero returned to his laptop.  
  
"What did you tell Trowa, did you tell him anything?"  
  
"I told him about the fake mission, he'll never know."  
  
"Why?" Wufei asked angrily.  
  
"It's better than telling him he was a burden. Better than me telling him that he was destroying Quatre.."  
  
"Better than telling him that you just didn't care about him." Wufei scowled.  
  
"Don't tell me you're turning on me too?" Heero sighed. "What in the hell is wrong with all of you? So, let's here your little lecture on what I did."  
  
"I'm not going to, don't worry about that. And I'm not going to tell Quatre and Duo your little secret. I'm just going to hope that somewhere inside of you you're beginning to realize what you have done and the toll it is taking on all of us. I'm also hoping that you're asking yourself what it was all for, and I hope you come to the same conclusion as I have."  
  
Heero turned away, Wufei wondered for a moment if his words had touched him.  
  
"Just don't go looking for him, this is over with," it was obvious Heero was choking back tears, so Wufei didn't push it. He quietly excused himself, wondering how long it was going to take him to find Sally. Thankfully, he had all night. 


	11. Won't You Stop And Remember Me?

**Just a note, the title of the last chapter really didn't reflect on how I felt about the writing. Like I said, in chapter four I believe, the titles of my chapters are all lines taken from Simon and Garfunkle songs. The reason I picked that line for that chapter was because there were so many sad plot twist and turns and many a long, sad speeches. Anyway, just to cover my bases and make sure I don't come off sounding rude, I'm going to give Pandora-chan what she wants. So, Pandora, this is for you**  
  
. Trowa dared not to open his eyes. The sight of his barren little white room was becoming too horrible to face. Not another morning alone, not another morning staring at the ceiling, not another morning of being force fed the same bland, gray mushy food. No more, he didn't want to do this anymore.  
  
The worst part of it was, he couldn't even remember how long he'd been there. Four days was his guess, but it felt like it could have been a year. A year. Trowa opened his eyes. A year, here. He couldn't even begin to imagine.  
  
"Good morning to you," a sing-song voice floated into his room. Trowa turned his eyes toward the door, knowing exactly who'd be there. It was the beautiful young nurse from before, the one who had been behind the desk when he first arrived. He wanted to greet her, as she did him each day, but of course he wasn't able to. Trowa quickly learned that her name was Isabella, and that she had just completed nursing school and Moscow only three months before. Her job in the hospital was to work the desk and assist Mara with all her patients. Each morning, Isabella would feed Trowa, then help him with something she referred to as the "leggy workout." She'd help him move his legs up and down, back and forth and all around to make sure they didn't become weak from dystrophy and so that maybe he could learn how to walk again.  
  
Trowa didn't at all mind Isabella. She was very sweet, kind, bubbly and talkative. Her real downside was that she reminded him so much of Quatre it was almost painful. Trowa closed his eyes again, trying to fight back his tears. Isabella had already seen him cry twice, and both times she acted as if nothing was wrong, she'd only wordlessly dabbing his tears away. But today, she felt it necessary to say something.  
  
"I wish you wouldn't cry, dear," she called him dear, he had no idea why, "it makes me so sad. You know, I've never seen you smile. You want to smile for me?"  
  
Blinking through his tears, Trowa could only see a mess of blonde hair and a pair of sapphire eyes. Again he was confronted with the memory of his dear friend.  
  
"I recognize those tears," her voice cooed, "those are tears over a lost love, am I right?" And she was right. Trowa felt his heart sink so deeply into his chest, it almost made him ill to hear those words. Quatre was lost to him, he was never going to get to see him again. He was going to see his smiling face again, felt his soft touch, hear his kind voice. He was never going home again.  
  
A new set of tears were let loose, Isabella only quietly wiped them away, fearing more words would upset him again.  
  
~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~  
  
The afternoon eventually found it's way to Quatre's room, warm beams of pure daylight streaked across the hardwood floors and over his angelic face. His eyes fluttered for a moment, confused as to what day it was, or even where he was. His glasses were on askew, and adjusting them properly he found a book open on his lap.  
  
"Must have dozed off," he whispered to no one in particular. A quick draft rushed in through the open screen doors, and all the pages of the book flipped from front to back in two seconds, then Quatre closed it and placed it on his nightstand. For a moment he was puzzled, not being able to remember when he'd last opened the screen doors. There was a chance he'd opened them to let in a little extra sunshine while he was reading, but, on such a windy day......  
  
Another quick breeze ripped through the room and brought Quatre's attention to a slip of billowing paper beneath his book. Carefully, he lifted the book and pulled it out.  
  
The paper was neatly typed out, the top of it read: "I know you've been wanting this. Go find Trowa." Below, it listed detailed instructions and a somewhat decent map. For a moment Quatre couldn't even move. His throat tightened and his limbs became weighted with lead. Any remnants of his fatigue was quickly melting away. He could finally find Trowa, he could bring his friend home.  
  
When the shock subsided, Quatre leapt from his bed and threw on the first pair of clothes he could find. He gathered all the money he could from around his room and crammed it all into his pockets and his previously packed suitcases by his door. It all happened so quickly, he didn't even notice the second piece of paper beneath the first.  
  
There was no one he could see in the house, which was rather suspicious because it was the middle of the afternoon, but Quatre had no time to worry about it. He also didn't have the time to seek out Wufei to thank him. He had to go, he had to get Trowa, now.  
  
Running, out the door, he screamed a "thank you" to whoever could hear him, then he was on his way.  
  
Wufei and Duo though were only upstairs in Duo and Heero's bedroom.  
  
"I haven't seen him in days," Duo said roughly from behind his magazine.  
  
"Well, that's because you've been avoiding him," said Wufei.  
  
"Then why ask me where he is? You're the only person in this house who makes any contact with him. If you can't find him, we might as well assume he's dead. Then again, we may not be so lucky."  
  
"You know Duo," Wufei sighed, "you really need to stop this. If you weren't so busy having a little hissy fit you may actually be of some use right now."  
  
"Why do you want him anyway?" Duo cocked an eyebrow.  
  
"I needed to ask him a few questions this morning, I couldn't find him but at the time I didn't consider it a big deal. I thought maybe he went to the store or something. But it's near four now and I still haven't seen him."  
  
"Have you checked Quatre's room," Duo said, "maybe he stole him away too and is dumping the body somewhere..."  
  
"I wish you wouldn't talk like that," Wufei grunted, "and yes I did check Quatre's room and he is asleep safe and sound in his bed."  
  
A muffled "thank you," came from downstairs just as Wufei closed his mouth.  
  
"The hell was that?" Duo got up from his spot on the bed.  
  
"Sounded like Quatre.." Wufei whispered to himself.  
  
"Safe and sound in his bed, eh?"  
  
The two immediately dashed downstairs, but found the entire house deserted. They both called for Quatre, but he never answered back.  
  
"You think he left?" Duo asked, heading down towards Quatre's room.  
  
"Where would he have gone to?" Wufei followed. "He's still pretty weak."  
  
"Check this out," Duo took a piece of paper off Quatre's nightstand, "it was under his book. It looks like a note, and it's signed by Heero!"  
  
"Well, read it!" Wufei exclaimed anxiously.  
  
"Dear Quatre. I wish I could apologize to you face to face, but I'm afraid I'm not much of a man, not much of a leader either. I hate to admit it, but I just don't know what to do anymore. I was wrong, I deceived you, I deceived all of you, and now I've painted myself into a corner with no one to turn to. Duo doesn't love me anymore." Duo paused for a moment and took a breath. "and Wufei, the only person who I ever felt respected me now pities and looks down on me. And you, the most kind and patient of all of us, I don't even really need to say anything. Our relationship will never be the same, I know this, but I want to try and make up for what I've done. I've not only ruined your life, but Trowa's as well. With this note I left instructions on how to find him. I sorry I can't do more than that.  
  
As for me, I'm leaving. Tell Duo and Wufei for me. I wish I could apologize to them too, but this alone is hard enough. At the very least, could you tell Duo that I still love him and that I'll miss him everyday I'm away, just as I've missed him every night I slept on the couch alone." Duo dropped the note, visible tears forming in his eyes. He fell onto the bed and began to sob as if he'd never in his life been allowed to cry. Wufei picked up the discarded paper and finished it up.  
  
"I wish I could do it myself, but, I don't deserve to speak to him. Hopefully in my absence I will find myself, and hopefully in my absence Duo will find someone better suited for him, someone who can love him the way he should be loved.  
  
I can't believe I'm saying all this to you, but it's time I stop hiding my feelings. If I hadn't been such a selfish, pigheaded jerk none of this would have happened. So, forgive me please, that's all I can ask. Good luck. Heero Yuy."  
  
The room was silent for a moment as Duo wiped away his few remaining tears. Wufei went and got him a tissue, and after blowing his nose he finally said softly, "He loved me just fine."  
  
"And you love him too?" Wufei asked crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
"You know I do," Duo laughed a bit, "I can't believe he did this."  
  
"I knew it was going to happen eventually, I just didn't see it all going down like this."  
  
"I wish he was here," Duo's voice quivered, "I want to tell him I love him, that I'm sorry I was so mean to him. All I ever wanted was to see his good side, I always knew it was there. I tried to long to coax it out of him, and right when he's on the verge to break I do this to him."  
  
"He'll come back," Wufei sighed, "and you two can go back to normal."  
  
"And until then?"  
  
"We wait."  
  
~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~*+~  
  
Heero crammed a little torn bit of paper into his pocket as he stepped out of the phone booth. It was done now. The paper had held the number of the hospital in Izolda. He told them who he was and that the patient he had dropped off was going to be picked up again by a blonde boy by the name of Quatre Winner. He also left Quatre a special message that he was to receive when he got to the hospital.  
  
It was only a few more blocks to the airport, so Heero didn't both getting himself a taxi. He had a lot on his mind anyway, and the walking helped relaxed him. Over and over again in his mind played the events of the last month or so. Everything from Trowa's capture to now, every second, every moment, every detail was carefully replaying itself over and over again. Heero wondered it he'd ever be able to escape the pain and shame of it all. His only hope was to right his wrongs now, and try to make up for what he'd done.  
  
Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a single ticket to France. 


	12. Poorboys And Pilgrims With Families

When Isabella first told Trowa that he was going to get to leave his room for an hour each day, he was somewhat excited. Up until that point, the most action he ever got was when she came to roll him over so he didn't get bed sores. But now he was going to get to leave his room, maybe put on some clothes and see other people. It wasn't the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, but at the same time he couldn't complain.  
  
It was on a Tuesday morning when she came to get him, in her arms was a faded lavender robe and a pair of slippers. The rode was far too big, which was remarkable considering Trowa's stature.  
  
Isabella didn't have a wheelchair with her, which Trowa found confusing.  
  
"You can walk," she said with a reassuring smile, "just let me help you."  
  
Trowa was skeptical, but when Isabella lifted him to his feet, and he felt his body stabilize, he too shared in the smile.  
  
"See, told you those leggy exercises would help."  
  
Trowa soon learned that the rest of the hospital was as bland and as boring as his little sterile, white room. The windows were all barred, no sunlight could be seen from the outside. The only light was the humming florescence from above. Trowa hated those damn lights.  
  
At the end of the hallway there was a large room locked off with a chain link fence. Trowa felt a bit uncomfortable as Isabella unlocked it and led him inside. Inside there were other patients, most wandering around aimlessly, wringing their hands and speaking in whispers to themselves. Other's, Trowa noticed, were like him propped up in chairs starring at the ceiling. The rest of the robe-clad nuts were collecting chairs and placing them in a circle around the first male doctor Trowa had seen since he arrived.  
  
Isabella led him to the ratty, faded couch in the center of the room and set him down gently.  
  
"Just relax here," she said, "Dr. Eliasko is doing his weekly group therapy, so you can listen in if you want to." She leaned in closer, then whispered, "we do have some pretty funny crazy people here, but try not laugh, they're very sensitive." Trowa smiled.  
  
...........................................  
  
Quatre could hardly sit still on the plane, his mind with racing with so many thoughts. After all his stressing and fretting, after all the worry and the pain it was all going to be okay. Quatre closed his eyes and sighed to himself, a smile of euphoria spread across his face. Soon Trowa was going to be in his arms again.....it was all going to be okay.  
  
.........................................................  
  
After a long fifteens minutes of debating, Heero finally found the strength to knock on the trailer door in front of him.  
  
"Just a moment," came a familiar voice. The door swung open to reveal a tall girl with curly brunette hair floating gently at chin length. Her sweet green eyes seemed to smile as she took in Heero's image.  
  
"Hey you," she laughed, "long time no see. How you doin'?"  
  
"I'm fine Catherine, how are you?"  
  
"Can't complain. I see you didn't bring my little brother with you, too busy to visit his sister I guess."  
  
"We need to talk," Heero said, taking in a deep breath "is it all right if I come in."  
  
"Sure," Catherine said, her happy demeanor falling quickly.  
  
The trailer was big enough to easily be a home to one person, but Heero was still surprised the two people once shared it together. There were still remnants of Trowa's existence: a pair of very large boots sitting by the door, boxes of his favorite chocolate chip cookies half eaten on the counter, a pile of flute sheet music for Les Miz on the coffee table.  
  
"I was about to make some tea, would you like some?" Catherine asked, showing Heero to the couch.  
  
"Sure, what kind is it?"  
  
"Peppermint, it's my favorite. Trowa hates it though, when he lived here I could never make it. He used to get angry if he could smell it."  
  
"He always makes plain green tea for us. Bothered everyone except for me. I guess I just like my life plain and simple like that."  
  
"If you want, I can make you some green tea."  
  
"No, peppermint sounds nice and refreshing. I could use something like that after my flight." Heero realized now he was trying to avoid the topic that had brought him there.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure the trip here from Japan must have been exhausting. You couldn't have come all that way to see little old me, could you?"  
  
"Actually," Heero sighed, he wasn't going to be able to dodge it forever, "I did come here to talk to you about something." Again, Catherine sensed his dark tone.  
  
"Something bad?"  
  
"I'm afraid so." She was silent for a moment. The tea pot hissed.  
  
"Is it about Trowa?"  
  
"I think you know the answer to that." She was quiet for a moment, deciding her next words carefully.  
  
"Don't worry, he hasn't died." Heero heard a heavy sigh escape Catherine's lips. "Sorry to make you worry."  
  
"It's all right," Catherine whispered, bringing two cups of steaming tea over to the dining room table.  
  
"I don't really know where to begin...." Heero paused, looking into Catherine's eyes for the first time.  
  
"Just say whatever feels right," she said softly. She slipped her hand over Heero's, and he began his story.  
  
.....................................................  
  
Stepping off the plane, Quatre was immediately hit with a harsh and bitterly cold wind. He quickly rubbed some heavy amounts chap stick on his lips, pulled his parka hood over his head, and began to his journey to the little town on the piece of paper in front of him.  
  
"Izolda," Quatre said to himself, "that's where I'll find you."  
  
He rented a tiny car at a small place just outside the airport, he knew it was more expensive, but that didn't matter. The sooner he got here the better. The drive was only a great blur of white speeding past him. Quatre's top speed was 110 in his little rentable Russian car.  
  
......................................  
  
"Are you all right?" Heero asked before taking another sip of his tea. Catherine was like a stone before him, silent and unmoving, tiny droplets forming in her eyes.  
  
"I-I think so," her voice wavered.  
  
"I'm sorry to have to tell you all of this, but it needed to be done."  
  
"Where is he now?" Catherine asked.  
  
"He was living with us for a while...."  
  
"But where is he now?" Heero hesitated for a moment, ashamed of the answer he knew he had to give.  
  
"I took him to a hospital.......in Russia. I took him away from his home and his friends."  
  
"But I thought you said that Quatre was taking care of him?"  
  
"He was, believe he was and doing a very good job at it too. But I, selfishly, took him away and hid him. I didn't want him to be hurt, but I think I made the situation worse."  
  
"My poor brother," Catherine held back her tears.  
  
"I hope you're not angry.....I'm trying to make this right. Just before I came here, I told the hospital that a young blonde boy by the name of Quatre Winner would be coming in to pick up Trowa, and I left them instructions to give him on how to get here. He's coming with your brother, I'm sure he's already with him."  
  
"Trowa's coming home?" Catherine's voice picked up in excitement, "we'd better start tidying up!"  
  
"I think I should go," Heero got up from his seat, "I'm sure they won't want to see me."  
  
"Oh no you don't, you're going to stay and help me clean!"  
  
"Catherine, I would like to see them again, but I'm very sure that-"  
  
"The only way you're going to fix what you've done is to roll up yor selves, get on your knees and actually fix what you've done. You've got to show those two your sorry, and you can start by helping out around here. And when Trowa and Quatre come you're going to stay and give each of them an extra hand, got it?"  
  
"Got it." Heero smiled.  
  
...................................................  
  
The town of Izolda was more depressing than Quatre thought it would be. He could hardly believe that there was actually a hospital located nearby. He tried asking locals for help, but they only greeted him with a cold shoulder.  
  
After wandering about aimlessly, his eyes caught a glimpse of a large, bland building rising up from the edge of town.  
  
As he got closer, Quatre noticed a large sign that read in both English and Russian.  
  
Russian National Medical And Psychiatric Hospital #00632, Izolda  
  
...........................................................  
  
Heero carefully looked over the two sided shopping list that Catherine had given him. Apparently she was planning on cooking one huge meal for her little brother's homecoming. She didn't have a car, so he was forced to walk the six blocks to the little ma and pop market: Le Chat et L'évier Perméable. When Heero asked what it mean, Catherine said it was the two things that made the shop well known, a cat and a perpetually leaky sink that had a tendency to explode while customers were around.  
  
What she forgot to mention though that the "ma" of this mom and pop shop was a gardener, and just the week before she had a beautiful blossoming of roses.  
  
"How much for the roses?" Heero asked the old wrinkled woman.  
  
"Les roses?" The old woman repeated.  
  
"Les roses," Heero pointed to the bouquets she had lined out in front of the store.  
  
"Vingt!" She held up both her open palms twice.  
  
"Twenty? You got a deal!" He picked out a pair of ten reds with two pastel pinks. They were lovely.  
  
............................................................  
  
Quatre tried to keep his eyes down as he walked up to the front desk. He didn't want to be caught staring at some of the more interesting people in the hospital.  
  
"Excuse me?" He heard a sweet voice, "Are you lost?" Looking up, he saw a young nurse giving him a very quizzical look.  
  
"No, well, yes. I'm looking for a patient. Do you know where Trowa Barton is?"  
  
"Oh, you must be Quatre Winner, we just recently had a call about you from Mr. Yuy. He said you'd be taking Trowa with you."  
  
"He did?" Quatre asked, not sure if he had heard the nurse correctly.  
  
"Yes, and I'm sorry to see him go. Such a sweet patient, but I supposed it's for the best. Mr. Yuy said you two are very close friends."  
  
"Yeah," Quatre adjusted his glasses. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Heero had called?  
  
"Oh, and he wanted for me to give you a message." The nurse filed through some papers. "Here we are. He says that he's visiting with Catherine Barton, do you know who she is?"  
  
"Yes, Trowa's older sister."  
  
"He says that he's visiting with her and that you should bring Trowa to France to stay with her."  
  
Quatre stared back in awe, not believing a word of that the nurse was telling him.  
  
"Well, let me show you where he is. He's been up and walking a bit, so he's been spending time in the common room with other patients.  
  
..........................................................  
  
Trowa silently watched the daily group therapy circle in his usual silence. Today wasn't very exciting considering that only yesterday someone had thrown one of the chairs into the chain link fence.  
  
After a few moments, he grew bored and let his green eyes wander freely. Barren white walls, dirty tile floors, those humming fluorescent lights. He really, really hated those lights.  
  
Suddenly, his ear caught the sound of the hinge of the chain link fence squeaking open. Turning, his eyes caught the sight of the most beautiful sight he could ever imagine. The creature of which he had dreamed of, pined for and missed with all his heart.  
  
"Quatre," his lips formed the word but there was no sound. He wanted so badly to leap to his feet and grab his dearest into his arms. But instead it was the reverse, and before he knew it Quatre and wrapped his arms as tightly as he could around Trowa's form.  
  
"Trowa," he sobbed softly, "I found you. I really found you......" Pulling back, sapphire met green. Coming together, two lips tenderly met.  
  
They kissed, unaware of the fact that they held the attention of the entire psychiatric ward. 


	13. To The Fans!

Wow, I'm still in awe of how many reviews this is still getting (even though I haven't updated in a while.)

But that's why I'm here! The final few chapters are underway, and I'll try and work on them when I can. Problem is I'm getting back into original writing (doing an extensive web comic with friends) and adjusting to the college life.

But for my fans I shall finish! You guys have been great especially those who commented after every chapter, I wouldn't have gotten this far had I not gotten this kind of support. Thanks you so much and I hope you like the ending!

Loving always,

Cardigan RED


	14. Like A Bridge Over Troubled Water

It took Catherine close to twenty minutes to find it, but when she did, you could tell by the light in her eyes that it was worth the work.

"Our mother gave it to us," she smiled, "it's the only thing I have of value really." In her arms she held a beautiful crystal vase, etched with whimsical patterns all around. "Trowa will be happy to see it out, he always told me I shouldn't keep it hidden away. Hand me those roses will ya?" Heero was standing by the sink, unwrapping his new purchase carefully from the plastic.

"All right, but be gentle," he handed them to Catherine who arranged them in the crystal vase.

"There, all they need is a bit of water and they'll be just fine."

"You sure?"

"Course I'm sure, don't I look like I know what I'm doing?" Heero just smiled at her. "Trowa's going to love this," she said admiring her handy work, "it'll really make him feel at home."

Heero went and laid down in the bedroom after that. Catherine said it was a good idea, especially if the jetlag was catching up. But of course that wasn't what was wrong.

Closing his eyes and taking in a heavy breath, Heero said the words he never dreamed that he'd ever be able to speak out loud.

"I was wrong," he whispered, "I was wrong, I'm sorry." Heero watched his vision fade into watery droplets, ashamed of what he had done. "I was wrong," he said louder, his voice began to quiver, his hands began to shake. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Closing his eyes he forced warm tears down his cheeks. He tasted them on his lips, and cringed. He was really crying, no holding back, no attempt to save face.

"I was wrong, I'm sorry!" In his mind he could see Duo, late at night before they'd turn in for bed, letting down his hair, locks of warm earthen brown falling over his shoulders, violet eyes lidded in sleepiness.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I love you so much." Duo's head hit the pillow, his hair falling lightly around his face, framing it so perfectly. Heero felt more tears break free as those images turned into memories. Memories of late nights the two would share, dazed and playful, touching and laughing quietly under the sheets. Falling asleep half naked wrapped up in each other and then sneaking off alone for a quite private breakfast.

Those happy times now made for bittersweet tears as Heero threw himself into the pillows in order to stifle his crying.

Duo was never going to want him back.

And he faded away, his smile and shining eyes melted into darkness.

Then Heero saw Quatre. He saw his friend, tired and worn, hunched over the washing machine at 2 am, bags sagging under his beautiful blue eyes.

Heero saw himself approach.

"I'm sorry."

He could see his mouth move, but no sound was made. He saw a powerful determination rip across Quatre's face, the boy was yelling furiously.

They were both yelling, the confrontation was escalating.

"I'm so, so sorry." Heero saw Quatre on the ground, he saw himself atop the smaller boy, he saw his fist crashing into his face. And then everything turned to black.

And everything was quiet and still, save for the sound of a television set.

Heero opened his eyes, startled by the noise. He was still in the bedroom, lying on that same old bed, but it was early morning and his body......his body was wrapped in....bandages?

Looking up Heero felt slightly blinded by the newborn sunlight, but by shading his eyes he was able to make out a figure standing by the window.

He was tall and lean, one of his long hands fell casually to the side, the other rested his the front pocket of his faded denim jeans. The room was warm yet despite this the mysterious figure wore a turtleneck sweater. Like the jeans, it was also quite tight showing off the tall boy's best features.

Heero tried to focus in on the face but all he could see was a deep forest green staring back at him. That, and a friendly smile. A friendly, welcoming smile.

"I was wrong. I'm sorry Trowa, I'm so sorry."

"What did you say?" Heero snapped out of trace and woke up face down in a pillow. "are you all right?"

"Yeah," Heero mumbled, slowly trying to sit himself up straight on the bed. It was now twilight, the first stars of the evening were beginning to outshine the fading sun.

"Had me worried for a second," Catherine whispered, brushing a few strands of stray hair from Heero's eyes.

"Sorry, did you need something."

"I just came to tell you they're here." Heero felt his heart leap into his throat, he felt it beat a thousand times per second. "Just come on out whenever you're ready." She placed her hand on his the quietly exited the room.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Is he still asleep?"

"I'm afraid so, it was an awful trip as you well know."

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to a good nights rest myself."

"And what about you, little brother?" Catherine kneeled down beside the wheelchair and gave Trowa yet another series of welcome-home kisses. "I know I embarrassed you enough when you got here," she laughed, "but you have no idea how happy I am to see you!"

"I'm sure he's quite happy to be home too, aren't you?"

Trowa smiled.

Quatre took delight in making up the sofa bed, knowing that he and Trowa would once again be sleeping safely side by side with another, the memories of what had happened far behind them, only pleasant dreams lay ahead.

Only one thing was bothering him and that was Heero's presence, or lack thereof. Catherine said he'd been asleep the entire time, but, well, that didn't seem right at all too him.

"Are you still hungry?" Catherine asked, coming from the bedroom.

"Oh no, that dinner was more than enough,"

"Well, there are leftovers in the fridge if you boys get hungry," Catherine chirped as she went around the trailer, turning out all the lights.

"Where are you going to sleep tonight?" Quatre asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, isn't Heero still asleep in your bed?" Catherine paused on the last lamp, golden light covering her face as the rest of the trailer sat in darkness. Her featured softened a bit and became somewhat sad. She left the final light and went to sit on the newly made sofa bed beside her brother.

"I can't say what he's going through right now, I don't think any of us could understand it really. But I do have a women's intuition, and I know that inside of him he's ashamed of what's he's done and afraid of what that means. He's a headstrong boy, you two know that, and I know you're angry about what he did, I can't say I'm too pleased either, but he's still your friend and your leader and a boy. Just a young boy, like you."

Quatre sighed as he took in those words. He didn't want to forgive Heero, he just couldn't conceive of ignoring everything that had happened and greeting Heero with open arms and a kiss on the cheek. But at the same time, Catherine was right. Heero was only human, he was only a young boy caught in a situation that many people couldn't understand. It wasn't fair of him to judge his leader, but then, Heero had been so heartless and cruel and violent, but maybe that was because he was scared....but then....how could he......

Quatre felt something warm sneak up onto his hand, and looking down he saw Trowa's long fingers inching over. Green eyes shimmered and Quatre smiled in return.

"You forgive him, don't you?" Trowa gave a slight nod and smile. "I suppose if you can....." the blonde boy didn't finish. He got from his spot on the bed and made his way towards the bedroom. Both Catherine and Trowa watched Quatre's face as his eyes caught Heero's. Inaudible words were exchanged, then, the door closed and the two were left alone.

Catherine laid down beside her brother, he head resting gently on his heaving chest, her dark locks falling into her face.

"You're a good friend for forgiving him." She whispered.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Their eyes met and for a moment not a breath was taken in that tiny room. Heero tried to stand but he feet wouldn't allow it, Quatre tried to move but his body had frozen up.

"You missed dinner," he managed to utter. He didn't know why he said that, he just did.....

"Not hungry," Heero replied quietly. The two stared at each other in silence, then, Quatre slowly closed the door.

"Look," Heero got up, "let me just say I'm-"

"I'm sorry," Quatre blurted out.

"Excuse me?"

"I said I'm sorry," the blonde looked down at his feet as he made his way toward the bed, "I don't know what for, but I know I couldn't have possibly been perfect through this entire ordeal. At the very least I'm sorry for being so angry with you.....you didn't deserve it."

There was a moment there where the best Heero could do was stand still, mouth agape and eyes wide open. Disbelief was painted all over his face.

"But I did deserve it," Heero finally said. "I'm-"

"Don't say you're sorry." Quatre whispered, plopping himself down on the bed.

"I am though."

"I know, but" Quatre looked up, his crystal eyes brimming with tears.

"What is it you want?" Heero asked, taking a seat as well.

"I want things to be the way they were, I just wish none of this had happened and that Trowa was okay and you and Duo were okay and we weren't sitting here trying to apologize to each. I want everything back to normal.......but it can't be that way......" Heero watched as a stray tear made it's way down Quatre's cheek. Silently, he reached up and brushed it away.

"I'm tired of feeling so...." Quatre paused, "just negative. I can't hate you anymore, it hurts too much to hate you. It hurt me to hate that OZ soldier who did this, yet somehow in my mind I was able to let that hatred go. I didn't realize why that was until just now." Silence stepped in as Quatre tried to compose himself. "It wasn't his fault, it wasn't your fault, it is this system of life that has failed. Wufei said to me that people will always have to suffer for other's to live freely. Trowa wanted to give his life so that we could live another day. I gave up everything within my soul so that at least for a few moments Trowa may be at peace. You gave up your prideful stance so that I may again know the joy of being close to the one I love dearest. And Duo" Heero quickly looked up, his eyes locking onto blue, "Duo devoted himself to a person which he couldn't wholly guarantee loved him in return."

Quatre waited for a response, but it seemed there was to be none. "We can't blame ourselves for what life does, there will always be harshness in this world, we can't avoid that, and we cannot hate each other because of this. The only way we'll be able to survive the clockwork of life is if we admit our love and remember to love each other each and every day. Only then we can be saved from misery."

"I love you, Quatre," came a quiet voice.

"I love you too, Heero."


End file.
